Copyright  5 
D.  A  J.  SADLIER  k  CO. 


Mj  Old  and  Dear  Friend, 
LOUIS  GAYLORD  CLARK, 

m  DAILY  COMPANION  DURING  THE  PROGRESS  OF  THIS  WORK, 
IT  IS,  WITH  PROPRIETY, 

Most  Affectionately  Inscribed. 


/ 


PREFACE.  ^ 


To  Louis  Gaylord  Clark  : 

My  Dear  Friend:  Inasmuch  as  you  stand  responsible  foi 
the  Dedication  of  this  book,  you  also  must  endure  the  Preface. 
You  watched  the  growth  of  this  volume,  and  the  toilsome  study 
by  which  it  increased,  and  was  at  length  finished.  Therefore,  I 
naturally  say  to  you  the  one  or  two  things  that  have  come  into 
my  mind  about  it. 

Many  will  say,  **What  on  earth  is  wanted  of  a  new  life  of 
Mart,  Queen  of  Scots?— what  new  thing  can  be  said  about  her?" 
I  answer,  the  contents  of  nearly  hundred  letters  and  state  papers, 
since  the  discovery  of  which  no  one  has  written,  or  attempted  to 
write  about  Mart,  except  excellent  and  faithful  Aones  Strickland, 
and  her  work  is  not  yet  complete.  A  Muscovite  noble,  of  all  men, 
the  Prince  Alexander  Labanofp  de  Rostofp,  has  collected  from 
royal  libraries,  university  archives,  state-paper  offices,  records  of 
private  families,  and  other  sources,  nearly  eight  hundred  papers 
relative  to,  or  written  by,  the  unfortunate  Princess.  He  has  found 
hitherto  unheard-of  cotemporary  memoirs  and  private  correspon- 
dence, which,  but  for  him,  would  still  have  been  slumbering  in 
tbe  dust  of  Italian,  and  French,  and  Austrian  family-record  rooms. 
He  gives  in  his  seven  splendid  octavos  all  these  papers  in  their 
originals,  or  in  certified  copies  in  Latin,  Italian,  quaint  old  French, 
and  quainter  old  Scottish  and  English.  To  those  volumes,  as  you 
know,  I  am  chiefly  iniiebted  for  anything  new  I  have  to  say  about 
my  subject. 

Two  other  things  I  Jiave  also  endeavored  to  do :  To  show  that 
with  reference  to  the  murder  of  Darnlet,  and  the  crimes  con- 


Pbefaoe. 


nected  with  it,  of  which  Mart  Stuart  is  even  yet,  ignorantly  of 
maliciously,  accused,  she  was  prosecuted  by  her  deadliest  mal« 
enemy,  Murray,  before  her  deadliest  female  enemy,  Elizabeth 
Tudor  :  and,  although  denied  admittance  to  the  presence  of  her 
}udge,  although  refused  a  sight  of  the  criminating  papers,  and 
never  confronted  with  her  accusers  or  their  witnesses,  still  she  wai 
tried,  declared  by  that  high,  inimical  court  spoUesdy  innocent;  and  the 
absurd  papers,  prepared  to  work  her  ruin,  were  thrown  out  of 
court ! 

Yet,  on  those  discarded  papers,  in  spite  of  that  rendered  verdict, 
have  after  writers,  since  her  death,  built  up  new  structures  of 
calumny,  which  have  passed,  and  do  pasa  with  the  world,  for 
history.  Mr.  Abbot  and  Charles  Dickens  take  them,  and  either 
unwilling  or  too  idle  to  inquire  into  their  truth,  re-produce  them 
for  children,  and  prejudice  their  young,  pure  hearts  against  aa 
gentle  and  stainless  a  lady  as  God  ever  made.  In  his  new  book, 
Dr.  DoRAN  re-echoes  them  with  his  customary  cold,  envenomed 
sneer ;  and  even  Thackeray  forgets  his  English  sense  of  fair  play, 
his  bravery  as  a  man,  his  chivalric  duty  as  a  gentleman,  and  his 
dignity  as  an  author  and  teacher,  to  turn  himself  into  a  literary 
grave-rat,  and  gnaw,  unprovokedly,  at  the  reputation  of  a  Woman, 
dead  nearly  three  hundred  years. 

And  again,  I  have  sought  to  destroy  in  the  ordinary  reader  that 
laziness,  which  so  willingly  receives  and  retains  a  falsehood,  be- 
cause it  would  be  some  trouble  to  examine  into  its  refutation. 
This  idleness  is  the  great  source  of  the  immortality  of  slander,  th« 
most  notable  instance  of  which  is  the  extensively-believed  evil 
opinion  of  Mary  of  Scotland. 

How  I  have  succeeded,  the  public  will  decide.  Of  your  verdict, 
and  that  of  many  another  loyal  and  truth-loving  heart,  I  am 
already  sure :  and  that,  and  my  own  self-approval,  will  be  somi 
reward  for  my  earnest  and  honest  labor. 


CONTENTS^ 


Book  I. 

L  Thb  Poor  Max'b  Kino  ••••••  18 

n.  Mart  ov  LoRBADn       ••••••  20 

III.  BouoH  Wooing     •••••••  80 

lY.  Maidenhood  •      •  86 

y.  WiFi  AND  Widow  •••••••  46 

VI.  La  Bbinb  Blanohb       ••••••  60 

yn.  Farewell  to  Franor     •      •      •      •      •  .66 

yin.  Ck)NDinoN  o?  Scotland  •      •     •     •      •      c  77 

IX.  First  Tear  in  Scotland       •      •      •     •      •  87 

X.  Ihb  Ruin  o?  Gordon  ot  Hvitlnt  •      •      •      •  108 

XL  Thb  End  of  the  First  Period      •      •      •      •  118 

Xn  Second  Marriaqb  •••••••  128 

Xm.  Murder  op  David  Riocio      •      •      •      •      •  188 

XIY.  Plots  and  Pardons       ••••••  160 

XY.  Suffbrino  and  Lovb     ••••••  166 


Z  00KTEyT8. 

XVL  St.  Mabt'b  Kiek  in  the  Fixld*   .      .      •  177 

XVn.  Was  Maet  an  Aocompijcb  of  BOTHWSLLf     •      :  187 

XVIIL  SlLYSR-GASKSr  LBTTEBa  200 

XIX.   Confession  of  Pabis   214 

XX.    Who  werb  the  MubderebiT   219 

XXL  The  Game  Aoyanceb     ••••••  289 

XXII.  The  Last  Cabd  is  FIated     •      •      •      •      •  244 

XXm.  The  Tbiok  is  Woe   256 

XXrV.  The  Bbeakinq  of  the  Somsa     .     •     •     .  268 

« 

Book  II. 

L    LOOHLEVEN  AND  LanOSIDB   281 

IL  Fbom  Cablisle  to  Bourov     •      •      •      •      •  295 

in.  Mubbat's  Confebences  and  his  End     •      •      •  804 

IV.  Eighteen  Yeabs  in  Sootland       •      •      •      •  819 

v.  Mabt,  the  Caftitb       ••••••  825 

VL   Counsel  for  Prisoner   888 

YIL   Mabt's  Last  Cbdib   858 

VnL  The  Gband  Coionssiov   865 

IX.  Last  Wobds  •      •      •  877 

X.  Beport  of  the  Ezeodtionebs  •      •      •      •      •  889 

XL  The  Eiqbth  of  Fbbbuaet     •      •      .      •      •  808 

Apnm     401 


BOOK  I. 

Mary,  the  Queen. 


•*  Be  thou  as  chaste  as  ice,  as  pure  as  snow,  thou  shalt  not  escape  calunany." 

Hamlet,  Act  iii..  Sc.  1. 


Mary,  Qjieen  of  Scots. 


Chapter  1. 

The  **Poor  Man's  King.** 

Eighth  in  descent  from  the  heroic  Robert  Bruce,  James 
V.  was  as  remarkable  for  his  kingly  virtues  as  for  his  stately 
personal  beauty  and  elegant  accomplishments.  Inflexibly 
just  and  brave,  he  was  the  very  soul  of  chivalric  honor. 
Restraining  his  turbulent  chiefs  and  nobles,  he  was  the  kind 
and  idolized  protector  of  the  people,  among  whom  he 
loved  to  move  incognito,  like  a  Scottish  Haroun  al  Raschid. 

His  mien  and  features  are  described  by  all  as  majestic 
and  unusually  beautiful ;  skilled  in  all  manly  exercises,  his 
frame  was  lithe  and  agile  as  that  of  a  stag  from  his  own 
wild  hills ;  romantic  and  adventurous,  a  poet  and  excellent 
mtisician,  the  best  jouster  in  the  tourney,  a  good  harpist  in 


H         Mary,  Queen  of  Soots. 

the  hall,  he  was  the  beau  ideal  of  a  king  and  preta 
chevalier  J  even  in  the  days  when  Francis  I.,  the  accom- 
plished and  gallant  knight,  ruled  the  fair  realm  of  France. 

He  had  lead  a  varied  life.  His  gallant  father  fell  on  the 
terrible  field  of  Flodden,  when  he  was  but  a  child,  and  the 
long  regency  that  followed  was  but  a  struggle  for  th^ 
possession  of  his  person.  Long  kept  prisoner  by  the 
Douglas,  his  kingdom  was  ruled  absolutely  by  Angus, 
head  of  a  portion  of  that  ancient  and  powerful  House. 
Many  attempts  were  made  to  rescue  the  young  king  by 
force,  but  all  failed,  and  it  was  with  only  a  single  servant 
that  he  at  last  succeeded  in  escaping  from  Falkland  Cas- 
tle, and  reached  his  mother's  Castle  of  Stirling,  where  he 
found  safety. 

He  now,  for  the  first  time,  began  to  govern  his  own 
realm.  Calling  such  of  his  nobles  about  him  as  were 
jealous  of  the  Douglas,  he,  with  their  aid,  assisted  in  over- 
throwing that  family,  and  banished  them  from  Scotland. 
Next  he  attacked  the  powerful  border  chiefs,  and  broke 
the  strength  of  one  of  them  after  another.  Then  he  turned 
his  attention  to  tne  fierce  lords  of  the  Highlands,  and  met 
with  the  same  success,  so  that  at  last,  he  found  himself 
indeed  a  king  of  the  ancient  realm  of  Scotland. 

This  course  was  not  exactly  calculated  to  win  the  love  of 
the  nobles,  but  James  was  the  idol  of  the  people.  He 
loved  to  go  about  among  them  unknown,  calling  himself 
the  Goodman  of  BaUengiech,  and  many  are  the  legends  told 


The  Poor  Man's  King.  14 

him,  most  pleasantly  to  be  read  in  good  Sir  Walter's 
"  Tales  of  a  Grandfather,"  or  in  the  text  and  abundant 
notes  of  "  The  Lady  of  the  Lake." 

Many  and  wise  were  the  laws  that  he  made  for  the 
punishment  of  crime ;  the  restraint  of  violence,  the  gov- 
ernment of  his  people.  He  first  established  the  legal  pro- 
fession in  Scotland,  setting  apart  learned  men  to  be  trained 
in  the  study  of  the  laws,  and  styling  them  the  College 
of  Justice,  now  the  Civil  Supreme  Court  of  the  Kingdom, 
He  founded  a  navy  also,  and  he  himself  sailed  round  hia 
country,  making  an  accurate  coast  survey  of  it.  He  called 
experienced  miners  from  Germany,  and  set  them  to  work 
among  the  Clydesdale  hills,  where  he  found  both  silver 
and  gold.  From  the  gold  the  famous  bonnet  piece  was 
coined,  which  afforded  him  more  than  one  opportunity  of 
displaying  regal  magnificence. 

On  one  occasion,  after  treating  the  continental  ambassa- 
dors to  a  hunt,  and  giving  them  only  the  game  they  had 
killed  for  dinner,  he  apologised  for  the  absence  of  luxuries, 
but  hoped  that  the  fruit  at  dessert  would  recompense  them 
The  Southerns  looked  over  the  barren  Cravvfordsmoor, 
%nd  at  the  bleak,  heathy  or  bare  granite  hills,  and  wondered 
where  the  fruit  might  grow.  But  the  king  pointed  to  the 
covered,  dishes  before  them,  and  each  man  lifting  off  hig 
cover,  saw  the  dish  filled  with  bonnet  pieces. 

Though  a  zealous  encourager  of  science,  art,  and 
learning  he  found  time  enough  for  many  a  romantic 


16         Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 

adveDture,  not  only  in  his  own  kingdom,  but  abroad.  Fol 
he  visited  the  French  court  with  a  small  retinue,  ana 
ftlmost  unknown;  tilting  at  the  tournaments,  dancing  in 
tlie  hall,  singing  his  own  songs  in  the  bower,  and  winning 
first  the  fair  Magdalene  of  France,  and  afterwards  the 
heart  and  hand  of  Mary  of  Lorraine. 

But  troublous  times  were  at  hand.  Henry  VITI.  of 
England  had  renounced  the  authority  of  the  Pope,  and 
declared  himself  Head  of  the  Church.  He  earnestly 
desired  that  King  James  should  follow  his  example, 
•ffering  to  create  him  Duke  of  York,  and  give  him,  being 
Wien  a  widower,  the  hand  of  the  Princess  Mary  in  marriage 
*tut  James  doubted  the  good  faith  of  the  wife-murdering 
iiaonarch,  and  after  many  fruitless  negotiations,  refused  to 
Bide  with  him  :  whereupon  the  hot-blooded,  sensual  Blue- 
t^eard  declared  war,  and  marched  his  troops  against 
Scotland.  At  first  the  Scots  met  with  success,  and  might 
have  given  Henry  cause  to  repent  of  his  rashness,  but  the 
disaffection,  nay,  the  disloyalty  of  the  Scottish  nobles, 
discouraged  the  people,  and  disheartened  the  king.  He 
had,  in  person,  led  his  troops  to  Fala,  on  the  English 
border,  and  was  preparing  to  enter  that  country,  when  the 
nobles  apprised  him  that  they  disapproved  of  the  war,  and 
that,  although  they  were  ready  to  obey  him  in  defence  of 
their  own  land,  they  would  not  follow  him  a  step  into  the 
enemy's  country. 

Only  John  Scott  of  Thirlstane  offered  to  follow  with 


The  Poor  Man  s  King 


17 


Lis  spears,  wheresoever  their  monarch  chose  to  lead 
them. 

The  king,  disgusted  with  his  unreliable  lords,  returned  to 
his  capital,  to  aieditate  reprisals  on  the  English.  He  soon 
raised  a  force  of  ten  thousand  men,  and  conferring  the 
command  upon  his  favorite,  Oliver  Sinclair,  sent  him  to 
enter  England.  They  reached  the  Moss  of  Sol  way  which 
forms  part  of  the  Border  line  between  Scotland  and  Eng- 
land, and  here  the  disaffection  of  the  chiefs  again  broke 
out.  They  despised  and  disliked  Sinclair,  and  refused  to 
follow  him.  The  ranks  were  broken;  the  tides  of  the 
Frith,  deep  and  strong,  began  to  roll  swiftly  shoreward. 
There  was  no  array  of  the  Scottish  lines.  Then  five  hun- 
dred English  borderers  led  on  by  Thomas  Dacre  and  John 
Musgrave,  charged  upon  them,  and  the  ten  thousand  Scots 
without  striking  a  blow,  fled  from  before  the  handful  of 
Jackmen,  and  Sinclair  and  others  were  captured. 

The  king's  heart  broke.  A  fierce  fever  took  possession 
of  him  and  only  yielded  to  a  settled  and  incurable  dejec- 
tion. Sleepless,  and  sad  he  tossed  about  upon  his  bed, 
repeating  constantly,  "Fie!  fled  is  Oliver!  Is  Oliver 
ta'on  ?"  or,  he  would  sink  into  a  stupor  as  of  death,  from 
which  he  would  awaken  to  smite  his  breast  in  paroxysms 
of  despairing  pain. 

For  a  week  this  continued,  then  on  the  first  of  Decem- 
ber, he  silently  quit  his  capital,  and  attended  only  by  Sir 
WDliam  Kirkaldy  of  the  Grange,  retired  to  Hallyards  in 


18         Mary,   Queen  of  Sc.ts. 

Pifeshire,  tlie  residence  of  that  gentleman.  Here  ht 
remained  sunk  in  mute,  irreparable  sorrow,  and  wlien  the 
aged  lady  of  the  house  would  try  to  comfort  him,  he  had 
but  one  reply. 

^  My  portion  of  the  world  is  short,  I  shall  not  be  with 
you  in  fifteen  days." 

"  Where  will  it  please  your  Grace,  to  hold  your  Christ- 
mas feast  ?"  the  servitor  asked. 

The  poor  king  smiled  bitterly,  and  mournfully, 

"I  cannot  tell;  choose  ye  the  place:  but  this  I  can 
tell  you,  that  ere  Yule  Day  (Christmas,)  ye  will  be  master- 
less,  and  the  realm  without  a  king." 

Then  back  to  his  fever  again,  and  his  mournful  reitera- 
tion, "  Fie,  fled  is  Oliver !    Is  Oliver  ta'en  ?" 

In  a  few  days,  he  retired  to  his  palace  at  Falklands,  and 
took  to  his  bed,  saying  to  his  attendants: — 

"  I  will  rise  from  this  no  more." 

He  would  see  scarce  any  one  save  the  oldest  of  bis 
friends,  the  preceptor  of  his  infancy  and  his  loyal  servant, 
the  poet  herald,  Sir  David  Lyndsay,  of  the  Mount,  Lord 
Lion  King  at  Arms,  who  wrote  the  history  of  these  last 
sad  hours.  Only  once  he  sent  for  some  of  his  lords  spiri- 
tual and  temporal,  to  confer  with  them  about  the  welfare 
of  the  throne,  but  ere  they  arrived,  he  had  sunk  again  into 
dejection.  By  this  time,  a  messenger  arrived  from  Linlith- 
gow palace  to  tell  him  that  the  queen  had  borne  a  child. 
Hath  a  man  or  woman  been  bom  to  me?"  he  asked. 


The  Poor  Man's  Kino. 


19 


**'Ti8  ane  fair  daughter  T  was  the  answer 

"Farewell  then,"  said  he,  '*to  the  crown  of  Scotland' 
It  came  with  a  lass;*  it  will  pass  away  with  a  lass." 

And  so,"  says  Sir  David  Lyndsay,  "  he  commended 
himself  to  Almighty  God,  and  turned  his  back  to  his 
lords  and  his  face  to  the  wall." 

His  speech  did  not  return,  but  they  saw,  by  his  demeanor, 
that  he  was  perfectly  conscious,  and  in  his  right  mind. 
So,  silently,  the  end  drew  on.  The  clouds  of  death  were 
gathering  o'er  his  eyes ;  the  pulses  of  that  proud  but  bro- 
ken heart  were  beating  feebly;  the  high  chivalric  soul 
was  ready  for  its  flight,  when  he  turned  towards  his  nobles, 
looked  at  them  kindly  and  smiled.  And  then  he  kissed 
h\s  hand  in  token  of  farewell,  and  extended  it  to  receive 
the  last  act  of  homage  that  they  should  pay  him  forever. 
*'Tliis  done,"  says  Lyndsay,  **he  held  up  his  hands  to  God, 
and  yielded  up  his  spirit." 

Thus  died  James  Stuart  V.  of  Scotland,  in  the  prime 
of  iife,  his  thirty-first  year,  December  13,  1542. 

There  was  great  "moan  and  dole,"  throughout  the 
realm,  for  the  people  dearly  loved  him  on  whom  they  had 
conferred  the  sacred  title  of  "  The  Poor  Man's  King." 

On  the  infant  forehead  of  Mary,  last  queen  of  Scotland, 
fell  the  mournful  shadows  of  her  father's  death. 

*The  lass  by  whom  the  crown  of  Scotland  came  to  the  Stuarts,  was  Margery 
truce,  daughter  of  the  heroic  King  Robert,  and  wife  of  the  ancestor  of  Jameii 
Walter,  Hi^  St  award  of  Scotland. 


Chapter  II 


Mary    of  Lorraine. 

A  UVEAL  descendant  of  Charlemagne,  daughter  of 
Charles,  Due  de  Guise  and  Antoinette  de  Bourbon  Ven- 
dome ;  widow  of  Due  de  Longueville,  first,  and  now  of 
James  V,,  King  of  Scotland,  Mary  of  Lorraine,  at  the 
ftge  of  thirty-six,  found  herself  Regent  of  that  ancient 
kingdom  as  representative  of  her  infant,  Queen  Mary, 

When  James  began  to  recover  from  the  grief  which  the 
loss  of  his  "  sweet  transplanted  lily  Magdalen,"  caused  him, 
his  thoughts  reverted  to  a  lady  who,  next  to  his  choice,  had 
pleased  him  at  the  court  of  Francis  L  Magdalen,  the  dar- 
ling daughter  of  Francis,  had  blessed  her  husband  and  hii 
people  for  only  forty  days ;  then  she  drooped  and  died, 
July  10,  1537. 

The  king's  thoughts  naturally  reverted  to  France,  and 
ijomewhat  lovingly  to  Mary  of  Lorraine,  who  had  become 
%  widow  about  a  month  before  the  death  of  Magdalen, 
They  had  seen  and  knowr  each  other,  when  James  wa« 


Mary  of  Lorraixe.  21 

wooing  his  fair  bride  in  France,  and  doubtless  she  remem 
bered  the  handsome  Scottish  kniglit,  "  first  lance  in  the 
tourney,  lightest  foot  in  the  dance."    In  a  word,  she  waa 
promised  to  the  royal  Scot. 

But,  that  excellent  Henry  the  Eighth  had  just  got  rid 
of  his  queen,  Jane  Seymour,  and  proposed  to  marry 
Madame  de  Longueville  himself.  He  was  told  that  she 
was  betrothed,  but  it  took  some  time  to  convince  him 
that  betrothal  was  an  obstacle  to  his  desires,  since  he 
had  not  yet  found  even  marriage  to  interfere  with  them. 
Francis  I.,  however,  made  it  clearly  comprehensible  to 
him  that  Mary  of  Lorraine,  was  to  marry  none  other 
than  James;  and  to  his  next  proposal,  that  a  bevy  of 
princely  French  ladies  should  be  sent  to  Calais  or  Bou- 
logne for  Bluebeard  to  choose  from,  the  French  monarch 
returned  a  rebuke,  polite  but  stern,  for  the  exceeding  inde- 
licacy of  the  request. 

Still  Henry  persisted.  He  made  a  proposal  in  form,  to 
the  lady  herself,  and  was  refused.  He  disregarded  all 
the  suggestions  of  the  king  of  France,  as  to  the  proper 
princess  to  address,  and  continued  to  importune  him  for 
the  hand  of  Mary.  Francis  ofiered  his  own  daughter,  who 
was  peevishly  rejected  as  too  young ;  then  Mary's  sister, 
who  was  also  rejected ;  then  Mademoiselle  de  Vendome,  hvL 
Henry  "  would  have  none  of  the  king  of  Scotland's  refus- 
ings," and  so  he  was  obliged  to  get  along  as  well  as  h« 
scold  with  the  help  of  Anne  of  Cleves,  Katherine  Howard, 


22         Maky,   Queen  of  Scots. 

and  Katharine  Parr,  while  Mary  of  Lorraine  bocanae  the 
wife  of  the  chivalric  and  woman-honoring  king  of  Scots. 

The  queen,  landed  in  Scotland  on  June  12,  1538, 
and  sent  word  to  her  august  husband  that  she  wanted  liia 
instructions  as  to  her  future  course.  That  gentleman  did 
not  stop  to  converse  with  the  courier,  but  ordering  hia 
lords  to  follow  him,  leaped  upon  his  horse,  galloped  off  to 
Balcomie  to  welcome  his  bride,  and  there  being  joined  by 
all  the  peers,  spiritual  and  temporal,  conducted  her  in 
triumph  to  St.  Andrew's.  There  the  keys  of  Scotland  were 
delivered  to  her  by  "  a  fair  lady  most  like  an  angel,  in  sign 
and  token  that  all  the  hearts  of  Scotland  were  open  to 
receive  her  Grace  f  and  there  she  was  "  instructed  to  serve 
her  God,  and  obey  her  husband,  according  to  God's  wiU 
and  commandments." 

Then  followed  the  wedding,  in  the  magnificent  cathedral 
of  St.  Andrew's,  soon  after  reformed,  and  not  now  existing 
Bave  as  a  shapeless  mass  of  ruins,  and  the  widowed  duch- 
ess of  Longueville,  Mary  de  Lorraine,  was  queen  of  Scot- 
land. Hawking,  archery,  hunting,  tournament,  and  ball, 
welcomed  the  lady  to  her  throne.  The  king  was  twenty- 
eight  years  of  age,  and  the  handsomest  cavalier  in  Christen- 
dom ;  she  an  eminently,  stately  young  widow  of  twenty- 
four.  Two  clouds,  one  fall  of  the  angry  hate,  so  often 
disappointed,  of  England,  and  the  other  grim  with  the 
civil  and  religious  storm  so  soon  to  burst  upon  the  unfon 
tunate  realm  of  Scotland,  hovered  o'er  that  nuptial  feast 


Mary  of  Lorraine.  23 

We  roust  pass  by  Mary's  life  with  brief  notice,  that  w« 
nay  come  at  once  to  her  daughter, 

**  rhat  sonbeam,  strayed  from  fairy  climes,  to  fade  upon  a  thxciic** 

James  loved  his  queen  passionately  and  she  loved  him. 
Her  initials,  M.  R.,  surmounted  by  the  fieur-de-lys^  were 
sculptured  upon  all  his  palaces;  the  royal  account  books 
exhibit  a  mass  of  rich  dresses,  jewelry,  and  costly  coffers 
obtained  for  her;  and  she  was  attended  and  courted  by  the 
royal  gentleman,  her  husband,  as  devotedly  as  when  he 
first  wooed  her  by  letter,  at  her  cousin's  and  adopted 
father's  court. 

In  the  May  of  the  next  year.  Queen  Mary  bore  a  prince, 
And  great  were  the  rejoicings  therefor.  Next  year  another 
Aon,  but  both  blossoms  faded  while  their  mother's  bosom 
was  still  their  shelter,  and  Scotland  had  yet  no  heir  born 
of  her  darling  king.  The  mother's  heart  was  stronger  and 
braver  than  the  fathers  under  these  domestic  inflictions, 
and  she  comforted  him  with  hope ;  "  they  were  both  young," 
and  that  God  would  bless  them  with  more  oflfspring,  so 
they  only  were  loyal  to  Him." 

There  came,  in  the  end,  one  more,  but  only  when  the 
broken  heart  of  the  splendid,  people-loving  king  was  beat- 
ing its  way  slowly  through  arctic  ice-fields  of  death,  on 
into  the  unknown  seas,  thence  to  return  never  more. 

Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  was  born  in  the  Palace  of  lAvc 
lithgow,  not  very  far  from  Edinlurg,  on  the  'yth  of  Decem- 
ber, 1542. 


21         Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 

Her  f;ither  never  saw  her,  nor  she  him,  and  already 
became  the  object  of  contending  ambitious  rivalries  and 
hates,  which  were  to  pursue  her  remorselessly  to  tli« 
melancholy  end.  But  that  will  be  seen  in  its  place. 
Enough  just  now  that  the  sweet  heather  bloom  of  cur 
hills  and  moorlands  is  born;  born  amid  sighs  and  wild 
exultant  huzzas,  beneath  the  tears  of  a  realm,  and  the 
sunshine  of  momentary  popular  pleasure. 

From  the  tall  cataract-guttered  hills,  where  sleeps  the 
eternal  snow,  white,  cold,  and  silent;  from  the  purple 
moorland  where  the  bee  hums  in  the  summer,  and  the 
stately  ptarmigan  and  black  cock  lurk  and  brood;  from 
the  glen,  upon  whose  side  the  ten-tined  stag  feeds  with 
uplifted  ears ;  from  the  still  lo  h,  silver  or  black,  or 
"  burnished  sheet  of  living  gold,"  as  God's  shadow,  or  sun 
or  moonlight  chanced  to  fall,  upon  it ;  from  the  rough 
river,  where  golden  salmon  leap  against  the  rapids ;  from 
clusters  of  larch  and  fir  trees  stirred  by  the  northern 
breeze,  came  the  full  sough  of  pain  and  joy.  Solwav  is 
lost,  but  Scotland  hath  an  heir. 

The  grim  border  baron  heard  it  in  his  fortress,  and  if  his 
name  were  Maitland,  or  Douglas,  it  "garrt  him  grue"  with 
pain.  The  wild  chief  of  the  sounding  Hebrides,  Rosshire 
and  the  hazel  and  juniper  gorges  of  the  mainland  heard 
it ;  and  their  hearts  grew  bigger  as  they  felt  more  and 
more  Scottish  forever.  Grim  Henry,  the  Bluebeard,  heard 
it,  and  began  to  dream  of  alliance  with  Scotland,  but  he 


Maky  of  Lorraine. 


25 


being  now  some  fifty  yeai-s  of  age,  and  the  young  heiress 
only  seven  days,  he  nobly  resolved  to  make  her  not  his 
seventh  queen,  but  the  wife  of  his  son.  Prince  Edward. 

Across  the  water,  in  the  Gallic  land,  Lorraine  and  Guise, 
and  Marie  de  Medicis  heard  and  began  already  to  plot  and 
ftcheme  about  the  unconscious  baby,  asleep  upon  her 
mother's  bosom  by  the  shadowy  tarn  of  Linlithgow. 
There  let  her  rest  until  her  fortune  begins  to  separate  from 
those  of  the  queen  mother,  the  "  old  queen,"  as  Henry  tiie 
Eighth  called  her,  when  in  her  twenty -eighth  year. 

Mary  of  Lorraine  gained  no  new  power  by  her  husband's 
death,  but  indeed  was  obliged  to  shut  herself  and  infant 
U})  in  the  old  castle,  lest  the  child  should  be  taken  from 
her,  whilst  the  stormy  strife  for  the  Regency  went  on. 
Cardinal  Beton  claimed  it  by  virtue  of  the  king's  last 
wishes  ;  James  Hamilton,  Earl  of  Arran,  claimed  it  as  next 
heir  to  the  throne ;  and  before  the  mother  had  left  her 
bed,  he  called  upon  her  to  propose  a  future  marriage 
between  his  son,  then  seven  years  old,  and  the  infant 
queen. 

Beton,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  conquered,  and  Arran 
was  declared  Regent,  or  Lord  Governor  of  Scotland,  a  post 
iihich  he  held  for  some  years,  first  as  leader  of  the  Reform- 
ers, and  afterwards  by  consent  of  the  Catholic  party. 

King  James  had  been  carried  from  Falkland  to  Edin- 
burgh and  was  there  laid  beside  his  beloved  Magdalen,  in 
Holy  rood.    Uoon  his  death  ensued  a  peace  with  England, 


26 


Mary,  Quesn  of  Scots. 


the  relations  of  which  kingdom  with  that  of  Scotland  rausl 
be  briefly  stated  here. 

Archibald  Douglas,  Earl  of  Angus,  had  long  been  ai 
xile  in  England.  A  great  many  other  gentlemen  ha«i 
been  taken  prisoners  at  the  disastrous  battle  of  Solwr^y 
Moss,  among  them  the  Earls  of  Cassilis  and  Glencairn,  and 
the  Lords  Gray,  Maxwell,  Oliphant,  Fleming,  and  Summer 
ville,  all  peers  of  Scotland.  At  first,  Henry  treated  these 
persons  with  contumely,  but  when  newer  schemes  had 
developed  themselves  in  his  mind,  he  changed  his  conduct, 
and  became  kind  to  them. 

So  soon  as  he  proposed  that  the  young  queen  should  be 
betrothed  to  his  son,  he,  with  characteristic  modesty, 
demanded  that  immediate  possession  of  her  person  should 
be  given  up,  and  that  her  education  should  be  carried  on  at 
his  court.  This  refused,  he  resolved  to  obtain  the  child  by 
Korce,  and  to  aid  in  his  design,  he  purchased  the  seven 
^ase  men  and  disloyal  gentlemen  whose  names  are  written 
above.  They  were  richly  pensioned,  and  permitted  to 
return  to  Scotland  after  they  had  pledged  themselves  that 
they  would  make  the  uxoricide  governor  of  Scotland,  admit 
English  garrisons  into  the  principal  Scottish  fortresses  and 
deliver  the  person  of  their  infant  sovereign  into  Henry'e 
hands.  Failing  in  this,  they  were  to  return  to  captivity  in 
England. 

In  addition  to  this,  Henry  sent  to  the  Scottish  coart  an 
especial  minister  Sir  Ralph  Saddler,  half  resident  arabasaa^ 


MaitT  of  Lorraine. 


27 


ior,  half  spy,  with  instructions  to  use  his  utmost  exeniona 
to  lender  the  mind  of  the  Queen  Mother  and  the  nation 
favourable  to  his  views,  and  with  a  full  purse  for  such 
"  itching  palms"  as  were  -vllling  to  barter  honor  tor 
money. 

The  first,  of  course,  failed.  Mary  of  Lorraine  was  pre- 
pared to  exhibit  the  courage  of  the  lionesa,  or  to  learn  and 
practise  the  wily  wisdom  of  the  serpent;  to  employ  the 
powers  of  her  naturally  strong  and  well  cultivated  mind, 
or  use  the  coquetry  of  a  beautiful  woman ;  to  do  anything, 
in  short,  rather  than  let  her  innocent  and  darling  child  fall 
into  the  hands  stained  crimson  with  the  blood  of  Anne 
Boleyn  and  Katherine  Howard.  Ilie  purse  was,  how- 
ever, more  sucjcessful,  and  Sir  Ralph  Saddler  was  enabled 
to  buy  up  eveiy  traitor  in  Scotland. 

Saddler,  however,  learned  from  the  popular  sentiment, 
how  useless  his  attempts  must  prove.  When  pressing  the 
adoption  of  his  views  upon  Sir  Adam  Otterbourne,  that 
statesman  asked  him  shrewdly : 

"  If  your  lad  were  a  lass,  and  our  lass  a  lad,  would  you 
then  be  so  earnest  in  the  matter?  and  could  you  be  cou- 
tont  that  our  lad  should  be  king  of  England  ?" 

Saddler,  who,  of  course,  had  no  fear  of  a  hypothesia, 
answered  affirmatively,  but  Sir  Adam  said  stoutly  : 

Well,  if  you  had  the  lass  and  we  the  lad,  we  could  be 
well  content  with  it ;  but  I  cannot  believe  that  your  nation 
oould  agree  to  have  a  Scot  to  be  king  of  England ;  and  1 


28        Mary,  Queen  of  bcoT«. 

Assure  you  that  our  nation,  being  a  stout  nation,  will  nevei 
agree  to  have  an  Englishman  king  of  Scotland  ;  and  though 
the  whole  nobility  of  the  realm  would  consent  to  it,  yet 
our  common  people  and  the  stones  in  the  streets  would 
rise  and  rebel  against  it" 

So  Saddler  eased  his  mind  by  speaking  of  the  people  as 
proud  and  beggarly  Scots." 

The  Queen  Mother  was  aware  of  all  these  manoeuvres, 
and  saw  her  imminent  peril.  Neither  could  she  trust  the 
Lord-Governor  Arran.  since  he  was  next  heir  to  the  throne, 
and  not  of  a  character  to  make  a  proper  guardian  for  the 
royal  child.  The  Reformation  too  was  making  rapid,  and 
ijo  her,  hostile  advances,  and  she  had  no  resource  to  look 
to  but  Cardinal  Beton,  head  of  the  loyal  party,  and  France, 
her  native  country. 

But  the  first  correspondence  with  the  French  court  was 
discovered,  and  Beton  was  arrested  and  imprisoned.  Eight 
guardian  lords  were  appointed  for  the  child,  but  the  queen 
mother  kept  her  always  with  herself. 

Henry,  at  length  tired  of  waiting,  issued  a  peremptory 
crder  to  separate  the  mother  and  child,  and  the  danger  of 
the  queen  mother  increased,  shut  up  as  she  was,  almost 
powerless,  in  Linlithgow.  But  there  was  help  at  hand. 
When  the  need  was  the  sorest.  Earls  Lenox  and  Bothwell, 
with  other  gentlemen,  pronounced  in  her  favor,  called  t<? 
theii  aid  the  loyal  "  lads  from  the  hill,"  and  at  the  head  of 
ten  thousand  Highlanders  and  borderers,  with  pibrochf 


Maky  of  Loerainb.  i9 

•oundiRg  and  gay  tartans  streaming  in  the  wind,  marched 
)i»to  Linlithgow,  rescued  their  queen  and  her  mother,  and 
conducted  them  in  triumph  to  the  royal  fortress  and  castle 
of  Stirling. 

Then  Arran  and  the  Cardinal  were  reconciled,  and  pro 
ceeding  with  other  nobles  to  Stirling,  solemnized  the 
coronation  of  the  infant  queen  there  on  the  9th  of  Sep 
iember,  1642. 


chapter  111. 

Rough  Wooing 

So  sooD  as  Henry  had  seen  that  his  schemes  weXv^  nselessj 
as  far  as  regarded  their  peaceful  accomplishment,  ho  threw 
away  his  diplomatic  mask  and  exhibited,  at  cnce,  all  the 
unbridled  fury  of  his  temperament.  He  at  once  declared 
war,  and  issued  his  orders  to  the  Earl  of  Hertford  to  invade 
Scotland. 

"  Do  what  you  can,"  says  he,  "  to  beat  down  and  over* 
throw  the  Castle  (of  Edinburg).    Sack  Holj '•v^od  house, 
and  as  many  towns  and  villages  about  Edinburj^  as  yon 
conveniently  can.    Sack  Leith,  and  burn  and  subver*  it  an»l 
all  the  rest,  putting  man^  woman^  and  child  to  fire  and  sv^ord^ 
when  any  resistance  shall  be  made  to  you.    And  this  do^ic 
pass  over  into  Fife  land,  and  extend  the  like  extremities  an  ' 
destructions  in  all  towns  and  villages  whereunto  you  mai 
reach  conveniently,  not  forgetting,  among  the  rest,  to  s< 
'*>poil  and  turn  upside  down  the  Cardinal's  (Beton's)  towr 
of  St.  Andrew's  as  the  upper  stone  may  he  the  nether^  and  w< 


RouG  H  Wooing. 


31 


me  stick  stand  by  the  other^  sparing  no  creature  alive 
within  the  same,^^ 

Edinburgh  after  a  well  defended  three  days'  siege,  was 
taken  on  the  6th  of  May,  1544,  and  in  two  days  after  was 
plundered  and  laid  in  ashes.  The  Abbey  and  Palace  of 
Holyrood  were  destroyed ;  the  new  torab  of  brave  King 
James  defaced :  Leith  and  all  surrounding  towns  and 
villages  destroyed,  and  thousands  of  fanailies  cast  homeless 
and  penniless  ojt  upon  the  world. 

At  the  same  time  another  army,  under  Sir  Ralph  Ewers 
andSir'Krian  Latoun,  were  devastating  the  border.  In  one 
of  their  forays  two  hundred  fortified  places  were  destroyed. 
In  another,  seven  monasteries,  sixteen  castles,  five  market 
towns,  and  two  hundred  and  forty  villages,  were  laid  low 
Neither  abbey,  nor  mill,  nor  hospital,  was  spared.  Even 
beautiful  Melrose  was  destroyed ;  its  tombs  were  rifled,  and 
its  walls  riven  open. 

This  was  too  much  even  for  the  traitor  Douglas.  Ilg 
might  be  false  to  his  country  ;  he  might  sell  his  queen,  but 
he  still  had  family  pride,  and  some  reverence  for  the 
tombs  of  his  ancestors.  He  instantly  declared  against 
Henry,  and  hearing  that  that  monarch  had  given  the  lands 
fie  had  caused  to  be  devastated  to  the  knights  above-men- 
tioned^ he  cried  out, 

"  By  St.  Bride,  T  will  write  the  instrument  of  possession 
m  blood-red-ink,  and  with  sharp  pens,  upon  their  bodies  I" 

And  he  kept  his  word. 


82 


Mart,   Queen  of  Scots. 


The  Scots  were  fierct;ly  aroused.  Factions  were  lecon- 
ciled,  and  feuds  were  healed.  The  Queen  Mother  and  Arran 
renewed  their  old  relationship  of  amity.  Even  Henry'a 
friendf  could  not  endure  such  ferocities. 

"  I  like,"  said  one  noble,  I  like  the  marriage  well 
enough  ;  but  I  like  not  the  manner  of  the  wooing." 

Angus  and  Sir  Walter  Scott  of  Buccleugh,  commanded 
the  host  that  was  soon  accumulated,  and  on  the  27th  ol 
February,  1545,  they  met  the  iLi^oHsh  troops  at  Ancrum 
Moor,  and  in  one  hour  defeated  them,  though  numbering 
five  to  one,  slaying  eighteen  hundred  men,  and  both  their 
generals.  Lord  Angus  had  kept  his  word,  and  written 
with  "  sharp  pens  and  blood-red  ink "  the  title  deeds  of 
Henry's  gift. 

But  dissensions  were  soon  renewed  among  the  Scots 
lords;  the  Catholics  and  the  Reformers  had  broken  out 
Into  civil  war,  and  wero  killing  one  another,  and  burning 
and  destroying  churches  and  monasteries;  and  Cardinal 
Beton,  the  Queen  Mother's  strongest  friend,  was  murdered 
in  his  palace  at  St.  Andrew's. 

In  the  meantime,  Henry  VHI.  of  England  was  ca.leo 
away  to  "give  an  account  of  the  deeds  done  \n  the 
body."  What  reward  he  got  afitjr  that  accounting,  it  ia 
not  our  business  to  suggest. 

Somerset,  Lord  Protector  of  England,  resolved  in  all 
things  to  carry  out  his  master's  plans,  and  redemanded  the 
young  Queen  of  Scots.     Being  refused,  he  once  more 


KOUGH    WOOINO.  S8 

declared  war,  and  raarched  an  array  of  eiorhteen  thousand 
men  to  Pinkie  Cleugh,  near  Edinburg:,  and  near  the  sea. 
But  this  is  not  a  history  of  Scotland,  and,  therefore,  suffice 
it  to  say,  that  the  Scots  were  totally  routed,  after  a  hard 
fought  battle.  They  accused  the  English  of  making  more 
use  of  gold  in  the  Scots'  camp,  than  of  weapons  in  their 
own* 

**  It  was  your  gold  and  our  traitors  wanne 
The  field  of  Pinkie,  and  noe  Englishmanne/* 

It  was  the  last  great  defeat  the  Scots  ever  received  from 
the  English,  and  was  fought  on  the  10th  of  Sept.,  1547. 

It  is  an  odd  fact  in  the  history  of  national  warfare,  that 
during  all  the  long  centuries  of  conflict  between  these  twa 
kingdoms,  although  Scotland  sustained  several  defeats^ 
England  never  won  the  slightest  solid  advantage  from  hei 
victories.  This  was  the  case  now ;  their  defeat  merely 
exasperated  the  Scots,  and  increased  their  hate  for  their 
powerful  neighbors.  They  threw  themselves  into  the  arms 
of  France,  asked  aid  from  Henrv  11.  of  that  realm,  and 
proposed  the  hand  of  their  young  queen  in  marriage  to  the 
Dauphin  Francis.  Entreaty  nor  force  could  win  them  to 
ntrust  hex  to  the  English  court  for  education,  yet  they 
offered,  unasked,  to  send  her  into  France. 

The  proposition  was  hailed  with  delight.  Henry  sent 
over  five  thousand  men  to  the  help  of  his  ancient  allies, 
ftnd  an  abundant  escort  to  bring  the  young  queen  back. 

She  had  been  sent,  before  the  battle  of  Pinkie,  foi 


34         Mary,   Q.  u e e ^   of  Scots. 

•afet}  off  to  a  wild  highland  glen,  where,  on  an  island  called 
Inchmahone,  In  Loch  Monteith,  under  the  shadow  of  Ben 
I^omoLd,  she  and  her  four  Maries,  waited  until  the  storm 
had  passed,  guarded  by  Highland  hearts  and  Highland 
•nns,  that  English  gold  could  neither  buy  nor  paralyze. 

Now  she  was  sent  for,  and  with  her  attendants,  came  to 
meet  her  mother  and  her  new  French  friends  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Clyde,  on  the  "castled  crag"  of  Dunbarton.  There 
was  a  beautiful  widowed  queen,  still  young;  there  were 
ladies  fair  and  noble,  and  stalwart,  tartanned  mountain 
chiefs,  plaided  and  bonnetted ;  and  powerful  lowland  lords, 
and  gallant  gentlemen  from  beautiful  France,  but  the 
fairest  sight  of  all  was  that  of  the  five  lovely  children,  each 
in  her  fifth  year,  Mary  Stuart  the  Queen,  Mary  Beton, 
Mary  Seton,  Mary  Fleming,  and  Mary  Livingston.  Thev 
had  been  her  playmates  from  birth  almost,  and  were  nov 
to  follow  her  and  her  fortunes  into  France. 

It  was  a  sad  parting,  doubtless ;  but  that  was  the  coursb 
that  matters  were  to  take,  and  so,  with  tears  and  hopeful 
prayers  those  five  young  Soots  girls,  bade  farewell  to 
home. 

The  date  was  August  7th,  1548. 

Of  Mary  of  Lorraine's  feelings,  let  a  woman  judge- 
that  brave  and  excellent  historian,  Mrs.  Agnes  Strickland 

"  More  than  ten  years  had  passed  away  since  Mary  of 
Lorraine  had  seen  her  first  born  son,  and  now  she  had 
deprived  herself  of  her  last  treasure,  the  sweet  babe  ly 


Bough  Wooing. 


S5 


whose  smiles,  she  had  found  an  endearing  solace  for  all  bei 
other  bereavements.  The  pangs  which  wrung  her  heart, 
may  be  imagined  when  her  exciting  part  in  the  drams 
had  been  performed,  and  she  stood  on  that  rocky  promon 
tory,  surrounded  by  flattering  courtiers,  and  all  the  proud 
externals  of  royal  splendor,  but  in  childless  loneliness^, 
watching  the  receding  galleys  that  were  swiftly  bearing  her 
beautiful  and  beloved  little  Mary,  from  her  longing  eyes.** 

For  Mary  was  beautiful  as  well  as  beloved.  An  actor 
in  that  parting  scene,  M.  Beaugue,  writes  thus : — 

'^  The  young  queen  was,  at  that  time,  one  of  the  most 
perfect  creatures  the  God  of  nature  ever  formed,  for  that 
her  eqnal  was  nowhere  to  be  found,  nor  had  the  world 
mother  child  of  her  fortunes  and  hopes/' 


Chapter  IV* 


Maidenhood. 

Tan  feifcylora  of  France  was  no  ordinary  school  under 
ihe  leign  of  Henry  II.  and  his  queen,  Catherine  de 
Medicis.  Th<j  aniversity  of  Paris,  remodelled  by  Francis 
L,  the  present  king's  father,  had  for  its  head  the  great 
cardinal  of  Loiraine.  There  were  Latin,  Greek,  Hebrew, 
mathematics,  moral  philosophy,  and  medicine,  taught 
gratis.  No  religious  qualification  was  needed,  but  Catholic, 
Jew,  and  Protestant,  sate  side  by  side,  and  drank  from  the 
same  free  welling  fountain.  It  was  court  fashion  to  be 
learned ;  and  not  superficially  so,  but  deeply  and  tho- 
roughly. Beza,  Seve,  Pelletier,  were  the  heavy  guns,  Ron- 
sard  and  Jodelle  were  masters  in  Belles-Lettres. 

About  the  court,  were  Louis,  first  prince  of  Cond^ 
Francis  le  Balafrd,  Duke  of  Guise,  old  Marshal  Mont 
morency,  the  last  of  the  Montgomerys,  Margaret,  queen 
of  Navarre,  author  of  the  Nouvelles ;  the  learned  chan- 
cellor Michel  L'Hopital,  and  Catherine,  the  heart* ess  but 
accomplished  and  erudite  queen. 


Maidenhood. 


37 


Such  was  the  society,  such  the  influences  which  greeted 
the  chile  Queen  of  old  Scot) and,  on  her  reception  in 
France.  She  had  not  gotten  into  that  country  without 
trials,  difficulties,  and  menacing  orasns.  The  passage 
thither  had  been  stormy  winds  and  waves  had  barred  ner 
\om  the  vine-clad  shores;  many  were  the  perils  by  sea 
that  her  little  fleet  encountered  before  it  cast  anchor  in 
the  harbor  of  Roscoflf,  and  permitted  her  to  set  her  feet 
upon  Gallic  soil. 

On  the  20th  of  August,  she  proceeded  to  Morlaix,  where 
she  was  met  by  the  Seigneur  de  Rohan,  and  where 
a  Te  Deum  was  celebrated,  in  honor  of  her  safe  arrival. 
Returning  from  church,  a  drawbridge  at  the  city  gate,  over 
which  the  procession  was  passing,  was  broken  by  the 
weight  of  the  crowd,  and  fell  into  the  stream.  The  Scots 
khouted  "Treason!"  and  a  serious  rencounter  mioht  have 
i-een  the  consequence,  but  for  the  loud  cry  of  the  Breton 
ncfble,  as  he  walked  beside  the  young  queen's  litter, 
^  Never  was  Breton  guilty  of  treason." 

After  a  reasonable  period  of  repose,  the  march  towards 
Paris  was  renewed.  Everywhere  the  royal  child  waa 
greeted  with  tumultuous  joy.  City  gates  were  torn  from 
their  posts,  and  in  every  town  through  which  she  passed 
all  prisoners,  except  murderers,  were  set  free.  Truly  sha 
must  have  appeared  to  the  French  people  as  an  Angel  of 
Mercy,  a  character  which  her  wonderful  teauty  and  gentle 
ness  almost  deserved. 


88 


Mabt,  Queen  of  Scots. 


King  Henry  and  his  queen  were  absent  in  Burgundy 
but  the  dauphin,  and  the  other  royal  personages  of  th« 
court,  received  Mary  at  the  Castle  of  St.  Germain-en-Laye, 
where  she  was  to  be  educated.  A  suite  of  young  Scottish 
nobles  under  the  Earl  of  Livingston  and  Lord  Erskine, 
attended  her ;  those  two  gentlemen  being  entitled  the 
Lord  Keepers.  Her  grandmother,  the  Duchess  of  Guise, 
was  her  immediate  guardian,  and  her  illegitimate  brother, 
James  Stuart,  Prior  of  St.  Andrew's,  was  near  her  to  win 
her  affection  by  his  hollow  professions  of  loyal  love,  and  tc 
found  upon  her  gentleness  that  course  of  ambition  t  lat 
made  him  eventually  Earl  of  Mar  and  Murray,  Regent  of 
Scotland,  traitor  to  her  and  murderer  of  Lor  husband. 

It  is  usually  said  that  the  young  queen  was  sent  to  n 
convent  for  her  education,  but  the  statement  is  like  a  good 
many  others  which  pass  for  history ;  an  assertion  made  by 
some  one  without  authority,  and  copied  by  future  writers 
without  question.  What  is  certain  is  that  she  was  con- 
Itantly  in  the  palace,  where  she  and  her  four  Mnries  grew 
up  with  the  young  princes  and  princesses  of  France,  and 
that  in  the  whole  of  her  voluminous  correspondence  with 
her  mother,  no  single  letter  is  dated  from  any  convent 
l?hatever. 

The  king  and  queen  were  charmed  with  the  child ; 
finding  her,  says  Catherine,  "  so  wise  and  good  that  we  see 
nothing  we  could  wish  altered."  She  remained  a  year  at 
Bt.  Gercnain,  and  when  the  French  princesses  were  eent  to 


Maidenhood. 


39 


Jlije  convent  of  Poissy,  Mary  retired  with  her  own  house* 
hold  to  Blois.  Sbc  was  very  fond  of  study,  particularly  of 
poetry  and  music,  for  which  latter  art  she  had  an  heredi- 
tary passion.  George  Buchannan  made  her  one  of  the 
best  Latinists  of  the  age,  and  she  is  praised  earnestly  by 
Brantome  in  his  "Vies  des  Femmes  Illustres/'  Eonsard 
and  Jodelle  instructed  her  in  poetry;  the  best  masters 
aided  in  her  education,  and  with  all  her  application  to 
Btudy,  she  had  time  to  learn  to  be  the  best  dancer  on  gala 
Jays  at  court,  and  a  bold  and  graceful  little  rider  in  the 
lhase,  for  which  she  inherited  her  gallant  father's  fondness. 

Being  the  pet  at  court,  her  name  is  recorded  as  chief  in 
all  the  fetes;  her  warrior  kinsman,  the  Duke  of  Guise, 
lound  sylvan  amusement  for  her,  and  talked  to  her  of  bat- 
ies,  and  inspired  her  courage,  which  had  already  been 
proven  worthy  of  her  race,  and  so  between  her  duties  and 
her  pleasure,  the  days  slipped  on  and  brought  her  to  her 
ninth  year. 

Three  important  facts  signalize  this  year  1551. 

A  visit  from  her  mother,  who  tore  herself  from  the 
troubles  of  her  government  in  Scotland,  to  give  a  few 
months  to  her  darling  in  France,  to  bestow  that  heait- 
instruction  that  only  a  mother  can  bestow  ;  to  see  that  her 
infantas  mind  was  as  she  desired  it  to  be ;  to  be  beside  her 
in  her  first  terrible  danger,  and  then  to  fold  her  once  more 
lo  her  bosom,  to  go  back  to  the  cold  realm  of  Scotland, 
lad  to  see  her  child  no  more  on  earth  forever. 


40         Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

The  second  fact  is  the  formal  demand  of  her  hand  foi 
Blward  VI.  of  England,  by  the  Marquis  of  Northampton, 
to  which  demand  the  little  lady  gave  a  decided  No. 

And  the  third  is  the  horrid  attempt  to  poison  her  by  an 
archer  of  the  Scots  Guard,  Robert  Stuart  by  name.  H# 
ningled  the  deadly  powder  in  her  favorite  dish,  and  acci* 
dent  alone  prevented  the  accomplishment  of  his  fiendish 
design.  He  was  tried,  found  guilty,  and  executed,  but  did 
not  divulge  the  reason  of  his  crime.  He  was  an  adherent 
of  Matthew,  Earl  of  Lenox,  a  pretendant  to  the  Scottish 
throne,  and  may  have  been  instigated  by  him.  Or,  likelier 
Btill,  as  he  was  of  the  reformed  religion,  a  fanatical  hatred 
of  his  royal  mistress,  for  her  creed's  sake,  may  have  been 
the  motive  which  urged  him  to  so  base,  cruel,  and  disloyal 
an  attempt. 

The  next  six  or  seven  years  were  passed  at  the  court,  at 
Blois,  or  at  Mendon  with  her  brave  uncle,  Francis  of  Guise, 
who  did  his  best  to  spoil  her  by  indulgence,  and  who 
received  from  her  the  truest  filial  aflfection  that  child  could 
pay.  Some  troubles  she  had  even  in  this  halcyon  time 
and  tide  of  youth,  among  which  was  a  wretched  tease  of  a 
governess.  This  was  Madame  Parois,  in  whose  favor  Lady 
Fleming  had  been  superseded,  and  who  united  the  queru- 
lous disposition  consequent  upon  chronic  ill  health,  to 
the  peevish  wilfulness  of  a  religious  bigot.  Mary's  lettei-s 
to  her  mother  are  full  of  complaints  of  this  person,  who 
leems  to  have  grumbled  at  everything,  from  attendance  al 


Maidenhood. 


41 


•  festival  to  the  giving  away  to  a  servant  an  article 
from  the  little  queen's  wardrode.  Mary  indeed  complains 
Utterly  to  her  mother  of  not  being  allowed  to  reward  her 
Berviteurs,  "  whereby/'  she  says,  "  I  have  acquired  the 
reputation  of  being  niggardly "  a  reputation  which  hei 
iJ)Ounding  generosity  and  affectionate  heart  must  hav 
felt  as  a  terrible  imputation. 

At  last  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  "writes  to  his  sister  that 
Madame  Parois  must  be  removed ;  calls  her  an  improper 
person  for  the  charge,  and  at  length  says  to  the  mother, 
'*  You  and  all  your  race  will  have  cause  for  lasting  regret  if 
her  remaining  cost  you  the  life  of  the  queen,  your  daughter, 
who  has  with  extreme  patience  endured  much  that  she  and 
I  have  thought  could  not  but  be  known  to  you.  But  time 
at  last  unveils  many  things  which  it  is  no  longer  possible 
to  bear."  Worse  than  this  is  found  in  the  child's  own 
letters.  "  She  has  done  what  she  could  to  deprive  me  of 
the  affections  of  my  lady  grandmother,  and  of  the  queen 
of  Prance."  "  My  uncle,  the  Cardinal,  has  bade  me  speak 
be  Idly,  and  tell  you  I  think  she  has  been  nearly  the  cause 
of  my  death."  "  She  has  not  slept  in  my  chamber  two 
nights  for  five  months,"  and  again,  "  I  have  not  seen  her 
fcr  three  months." 

How  such  a  governess  as  this  could  be  kept  in  hei 
position  is  explicable  only  to  the  preoccupation  of  the 
Queen  Mother's  mind  with  the  stormy  times  of  Scotland ; 
Vut  eventually  the  negligent  and  querulous  invalid  received 


<9         MahT)   Queen  of  Soots. 

permission  to  retire,  and  Madame  de  Brene,  an  excellent 
lady  of  high  rank,  was  appointed  in  her  stead. 

Two  hours  every  day  continued  to  be  given  to  bard 
§tudy,  and  the  mind  of  the  royal  child  ripened  and 
expanded  wonderfully.  At  nine  years  of  age  she  com 
posed  and  recited  a  Latin  oration  for  some  court  pageant, 
and  more  than  one  copy  of  adulatory  verses  from  George 
Buchannan,  the  best  Latinist  and  basest  heart  of  his  age. 
Her  French  was  perfect,  and  is  frequently  praised  by 
quaint  old  Brantome. 

But  it  was  not  all  study  with  her;  sometimes  Uncle 
Cardinal  carried  her  away  to  his  own  estate ;  sometimes 
the  soldier  Francis  had  her  with  him,  to  listen  to  his  story 
of  battles,  and  to  hunt  with  him  in  his  spacious  forests. 
On  one  occasion,  her  dress  caught  in  the  branch  of  a  tree ; 
she  was  thrown  from  her  horse  and  nearly  ridden  over  by 
some  of  the  hunt,  who  did  not  see  her.  Even  the  hood 
she  wore  was  trodden  on  by  horses'  hoofs.  She,  however, 
gathered  herself  up,  and  arranging  her  soft  and  luxuriant 
chestnut  hair,  rejoined  the  chase,  without  manifesting  any 
alarm  whatever.  Indeed,  personal  courage  was  one  of  her 
most  remarkable  qualities. 

"  My  niece,"  said  tie  admiring  warrior  to  her,  "  there  ii 
one  trait  in  which  above  all  others,  I  recognise  my  blocki 
in  you.  You  are  as  brave  as  the  bravest  of  my  men-at- 
arms.  If  women  went  into  battle  now  as  they  did  in 
the  ancient  times,  I  ihm\  you  would  know  how  to  die  well 


Maidenhood. 


43 


This  was  iLerited  praise,  as  she  showed  by  all  her  con- 
duct during  the  perils  that  beset  her,  when  she  marched  at 
the  head  of  her  armies  to  punish  her  rebel  lords,  and 
when  she  confronted  the  undeserved  death  of  a  criminal 
with  the  heroic  and  patient  fortitude  of  a  martyr. 

Not  less  remarkable,  at  this  period,  as  throughout  her 
life,  is  her  constant  and  affectionate  remembrance  of  and 
care  for  all  who  served  her.  She  constantly  asked  favora 
for  them  from  her  royal  mother,  and  when  the  day  of  hei 
power  came,  she  heaped  benefits  upon  all  who  had  the 
slightest  claim  upon  her.  She  was  the  idol  of  the  court 
and  of  the  people.  No  ball,  nor  tournament,  nor  festival, 
was  complete  without  her,  and  the  people  would  throng 
about  her  when  she  went  abroad,  to  look  on  her  and 
bless  her.  It  was  about  this  time,  v/hen  walking  in  the 
Candlemas  procession,  a  poor  woman,  struck  by  her 
transcendant  beauty,  and  youthful  grace,  broke  through  the 
crowd,  threw  herself  at  the  child\s  feet,  and  asked  hei 
if  she  were  no*  an  mgel. 

So  went  n  ner  sweet,  pure  child  life,  already  dimmed 
in  its  lustre  by  the  cares  of  the  heavy  crown,  yet,  ever 
loving,  ^.ver  thoughtful  of  others.  In  one  letter  she  gives 
her  ^nother  power  to  create  a  pnnce ;  in  another  she 
bogs  for  some  Shetland  ponies  to  distribute  among  her 
young  friends.  Never,  but  once  in  this  time,  is  one 
personal  complaint  heard;  no  utterances  but  tender  gentle, 
lo-Hng  ones  come  from  her;  ani  how  it  was  possible  fot 


44         Mary,   Queen   of  Scots. 

men  to  hate  her  and  to  seek  her  life,  even  at  this  period 
is  a  marvel  and  astonishment  to  the  present  writer. 

So  passed  the  maidenhood  of  la  petite  Reinette  Ecossaise^ 
as  Catherine  de  Medicis  loved  to  call  her,  until  her  six- 
teenth year,  when  King  Henry's  formal  proposal  of  the 
Daviphin's  hand  was  laid  before  the  Scottish  Parliament. 
By  this  body,  nine  gentlemen  were  appointed  to  go  over  to 
France  and  arrange  the  marriage  articles  with  his  most 
Christian  Majesty.  Unluckily  they  encountered  a  storm, 
by  which  the  two  vessels  which  contained  all  their  jewels 
and  other  finery,  were  lost ;  but  they  proceeded  to  Paris, 
where  the  marriage  was  agreed  upon  after  signature  given 
to  the  following  articles : — 

The  arms  of  Scotland  and  France  to  be  borne  by  the 
young  couple  on  separate  shields,  surmounted  with  the 
Gallic  crown.  That  the  eldest  son  should  succeed  to  both 
realms.  If  only  daughters  were  born,  that  the  eldest 
should  be  Queen  of  Scotland,  with  a  dowry,  as  French 
Princess,  of  400,000  crowns.  That  Mary  should  now 
receive,  as  Dauphiness  of  France,  an  income  of  30,00C 
crowns,  to  be  increased  to  70,000  on  her  husband's 
accession  to  the  throne ;  and  that  a  sufficient  jointure 
should  be  secured  to  her  in  case  of  widowhood. 

It  is  asserted  that  Henry  abused  the  confidence  and 
youth  of  the  Queen,  by  obtaining  from  her.  in  private, 
certain  papers,  which  rende^^^d  the  foregoing  articles  null 
in  fact,  and  secured  to  him  the  reversion  of  the  Scottish 


Maidenhood. 


4S 


kingdom,  but  it  appears  most  probable  that  the  papers 
which  exist,  are  forgeries ;  at  all  eveats  they  were 
Ineflfectual  for  good  or  evil. 

On  Tuesday,  the  17th  of  April,  1558,  the  solemn 
betrothal  of  the  Dauphin  Francis  and  Mary,  Queen  of 
Scots,  was  celebrated  by  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  in  the 
presence  of  the  Scottish  Commissioners  and  the  French 
Court.  The  signing  of  the  contract  was  followed  by  a 
grand  ball,  and  on  the  next  Sunday  the  nuptials  were  to  be 
publicly  celebrated. 

So  passed  away  the  years  of  sunshine  and  peace,  the 
guileless  and  generally  happy  days  of  maidenhood,  and 
then,  Fate,  the  inexorable,  closed  the  relentless  gates  of 
Time  upon  them. 


Chapter  V. 

Wife  and  Widow. 

On  Sunday  following,  April  22,  the  solemn  ceremonial 
was  performed  by  the  bride's  uncle,  the  cardinal,  with  all 
the  pomp  and  splendor  that  the  beauty  of  the  ritual 
and  the  magnificent  style  of  the  times  could  allow.  The 
chroniclers,  ancient  and  modern,  vie  with  each  other  in 
the  minute  description  of  the  scene ;  poets  poured  in  their 
epithalamia  by  dozens,  most  eloquent  and  enthusiastic 
among  whom  was  Master  George  Buchannan. 

Mary  was,  of  course,  looking  exquisitely  ;  her  fresh  bloom 
of  sixteen  years  was  clad  "  in  a  robe  whiter  than  a  lily, 
with  a  regal  mantle  and  train  of  bluish  gray  cut  velvet, 
richly  embroidered  with  white  silk  and  pearls.''  She,  like 
her  mother,  was  considerably  above  the  ordinary  size  of 
women,  and  exquisitely  formed,  particularly  her  hands  and 
feet.  Her  hair  was  very  abundant,  and  of  a  rich  chestnut 
color,  her  eyes  large  and  very  dark  hazel,  and  complexion 
that  of  a  delicate  brmette,  clear,  but  without  much  color 


Wife  AN  D  Widow.  47 

80  she  stood  at  the  side  of  her  youncr  husband,  b^ancis 
ihe  Dauphin,  in  the  open  pavilion,  erected  before  the  dooi  s 

Notre  Dame,  and  heard  the  blessing  pronounced  which 
was  to  make  her  eventually,  queen  of  France,  while  the 
shores  of  the  Seine  rung  with  the  acclamations  of  tho 
delighted  and  enthusiastic  people. 

Then  followed  the  grand  dinner  at  the  palace  of  the 
archbishop,  and  then  the  courtly  ball,  which  terminated  at 
the  very  reasonable  hour  of  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
After  that,  back  to  the  palace,  where  supper  and  rich  pa 
geants  had  been  commanded.  A  hundred  gentlemen 
served  the  meal ;  a  hundred  more,  raised  on  a  dais  "  dis- 
coursed most  excellent  music."  Francis  le  Balafre,  heroic 
Due  de  Guise,  was  master  of  the  ceremonies :  the  vases, 
flagons,  and  basins,  fresh  from  the  magic  chisel  of  Ben- 
venuto  Cellini,  flashed  on  the  board.  Fleurs-de-lys  in 
gold,  studded  the  azure  ceiling,  and  from  the  walls,  in  statu- 
esque repose,  looked  down  the  lengthened  line  of  Gallic 
kings  from  Pharamond  to  Henry  father  of  the  bridegroom. 

The  guests  bore  names  still  wonderful  in  history,  Conde 
and  princely  Lorraine,  and  the  stern  constable  of  France, 
old  Montmorenci.  Angouleme  and  d'Este,  and  Catherine 
de  Medicis  and  Jeanne  d'Albret,  the  saintly  queen  of 
Navarre. 

First  in  the  pageant,  when  the  meal  was  ended,  came 
Vbe  seven  planets  marching  in  succession,  Mars  in  his 
armor,  Dian  with  her  bow.    Then  five-and-twenty  steeds, 


Mart,  Queen  of  Soots 


each  bearing  a  young  prince,  defiled  before  the  Scottish 
bride.  Then  coaches  full  of  pilgrims,  chaunting  songs: 
then  a  triumphal  car  filled  with  musicians,  and  drawn  by 
Bilver  cords.  Next  came  twelve  princes  cu  tweh'e  uni- 
corns, supporters  of  the  arras  of  Scotland. 

But  the  finest  pomp  of  all  was  after  the  dancing  had 
been  ended,  when  six  fine  galleys  with  silver  masts  sailed 
in,  each  guided  by  a  prince,  who  as  they  passed  the  groups 
of  ladies,  seized  and  carried  off  one  of  them  as  the  wild 
Norse  Vikings  used  to  win  their  brides.  The  Dauphin 
caught  his  fair  young  wife,  the  king  of  Navarre  his  pioua 
old  one,  Protestant  Condd  won  the  duchess  of  Guise,  head 
of  the  Catholic  party ;  and  thus,  in  the  regal  halls,  ablaze 
with  light,  the  mirth  went  on,  while  outside,  the  heralds 
scattered  money  among  the  shouting  people,  and  Paris 
was  tipsy  with  joy.  . 

Why,  even  in  sober  old  Scotland,  across  the  sea,  they 
were  feasting  and  making  merry  in  honor  of  their 
darling  young  queen's  nuptials.  There  were  "fyres  and 
processions,"  and  a  play  was  acted  in  Edinburg,  and  even 
old  Mons  Meg  was  fired,  and  prudent  Sawney  sent  after 
the  bullet,  and  ten  shillings  were  paid  out  to  somebody  for 
bringing  up  the  huge  gun,  to  be  schote,  and  for  the  find- 
ing and  carrying  of  her  bullet,  after  she  wa8  schote  fra< 
Wardie  muir,  to  the  castle.""** 

•  When  the  Scottleh  Lords  were  about  to  leave,  after  the  marriage,  Mary  guv* 
^portrait,  (that  from  which  our  frontispiece  is  takem)  to  the  Earl  of  GaMill0«b# 


Wife  and  Widow. 


49 


It  was  a  very  young  couple,  that  royal  pair,  Francis 
Wng  but  fifteen,  and  Mary,  thirteen  months  his  senior,  in 
Ler  sixteenth  year.  But  they  had  grown  up  together,  and 
he,  though  somewhat  timid  and  feeble,  was  sincerely  loved 
by  his  girl  wife,  and  returned  her  affection  with  passionate 
tenderness. 

But  the  marriage  sports  and  the  feasting  are  over,  and 
earnest  life  has  begun  for  the  queen  Dauphiness.  Now,  led 
by  ill-judged  counsel,,  she  sows  the  first  seed  of  discord, 
to  ripen  into  venomous  maturity,  between  herself  and 
Elizabeth  of  England.  Henry  the  VIII.,  whose  divorce 
from  Katharine  of  Arragon  no  Catholic  had  ever  recog- 
nized, caused  to  be  passed  an  act  of  parliament,  declaring 
both  his  daughters  illegitimate,  as  indeed,  Elizabeth  was, 
and  leaving  the  crown  to  his  son  Edward  VL  But,  on 
the  death  of  that  young  prince,  the  parliament  rescinding 
its  former  act,  called  Mary  Tudor  to  the  throne,  and  at  her 
death,  Elizabeth. 

Mary  of  Scotland,  was  the  great  gran  daughter  of  Henry 
^  VIL,  and  unquestionably  had  a  better  title  to  the  English 
crown,  than  one  who  was  born  of  such  wedlock  as  Henry 
VTII.  and  Anne  Boleyn's,  and  who  had  been  declared 
illegitimate  by  her  father  and  by  the  supreme  legislative 

«rhose  representative,  the  Marquis  of  Ailsa,  it  is  still  treasured  at  Culzean 
Castle,  Ayrshire.  To  the  other  commissioners,  she  gave  golden  lockets  contain- 
ing the  portraits  of  herself  and  the  Dauphin,  so  contrived  that,  when  tbejr  v«r< 
te«<i,  ber  Uoe  reposed  upon  his  breacL 


60 


Mabt^  Queen  of  Scots. 


Dody  of  the  realm.  Nevertheless,  it  was  unwise  to  ii\sist 
upon  the  matter  now,  while  her  own  realm  was  in  so  dia- 
turbed  a  condition,  or  to  adopt  the  device  which  she  did 
r^the  crowns  of  France  and  Scotland,  and  the  mot'o, 
Aliamqice  moratur.  It  made  the  Duke  of  Alva  say^ 
**This  bearing  of  Mary  Stuart's  will  not  be  easily  borne 
in  England."  Yet  at  the  same  moment,  Elizabeth  obsti- 
nately retained  the  style  of  Queen  of  "  Great  Britaic 
France^  and  Ireland." 

English  gold  was  busy  with  Scottish  traitors,  English 
Bpies  were  set  about  the  youthful  queen ;  all  the  seditions 
in  Scotland  were  carefully  fomented,  the  passions  of  the 
Protestant  party  were  nursed,  their  fears  enhanced,  their 
teri'or  of  a  Catholic  Sovereign  cultivated  to  the  utmost, 
when  at  last  Mary  fell  very  ill,  and  seemed  about  to 
go  into  a  decline,  and  to  perish  in  the  bloom  of  her  youth 
and  beauty,  the  news  made  glad  the  heart  of  Elizabeth, 
who  was  now  already  souring  down  into  the  venomous 
•stringency  of  ancient  maidenhood. 

Mary's  illness  at  this  time  appears  to  have  been  a  general 
debility  of  the  system,  attended  with  frequent  and  dan- 
gerous fits  of  fainting,  loss  of  appetite  and  so  forth.  Much 
of  it  was  doubtless  produced  by  her  close  and  affectionate 
ft! tendance  on  her  husband,  who,  constitutionally  delicate, 
Buffered  almost  constantly.  Be  that  as  it  may,  she  soon 
recovered  her  health  and  eminent  beauty,  and  by  so  doing 
added  another  pang  to  the  grief  of  her  English  cousin. 


Wife  and  Widow. 


61 


But  more  serious  sorrows  were  at  hand.  The  dauphia 
had  tried  his  first  armor  on,  under  the  Due  le  Guise,  and 
had  returned  from  camp,  when  his  father  determined  to 
eelebrate  Mary's  claim  to  the  English  crown  by  a  splendid 
tournament.  This  joust  was  held  in  the  Place  Royale,  ou 
the  6th  of  July,  1559,  and  Mary  was  ushered  to  her  place 
by  heralds  who  cried,  Place !  Place!  pour  la  Peine 
d* Angleterre,^''  And  the  people  shouted,  "  Vive  la  Peine 
i'Angleterre  /"  as  she  sate  down  under  the  escutcheon  of 
Scoiland  and  England,  and  beneath  an  inscription  wL:ck 
bailed  her  as  queen  of  those  realms,  and  queen  dauphines^ 
of  France. 

Never  forgotten,  never  forgiven  wero  the  acts  or  th« 
words  of  that  day.  Unexampled  in  the  annals  of  human 
atrocity  was  the  vengeance  that  fell  upop  the  lady  of  that 
festival.  A  fearful  omen  cut  short  those  rejoicings.  The 
king,  her  kind  friend,  and  father-in-law,  would  break  a 
lance  in  honour  of  his  daughter.  They  tried  to  dissuade 
him  in  vain.  He  armed  himself,  and  entered  the  lists. 
The  rest  of  the  story  is  known.  A  splinter  from  the  breaking 
lance  of  the  Count  of  Montgomery  entered  his  eye,  pierced 
upward  into  his  head,  and  he  was  borne  dying  from  the 
tourney.  Three  days  he  languished  in  his  agony,  and  on 
fjie  fourth  he  died. 

And  as  they  left  the  chamber,  Catherine  de  Medicis, 
stopping  at  the  door-way,  said,  in  her  haughty  sorrow,  to 
daugbter-iu-law,  ^Pa£3»  madaioe,  it  is       you  ta 


62        Maey,  Queen  of  Soots. 

walk  first  now.''  Mary  of  Scotland  was  also  Queen  of 
France. 

The  results  of  the  sudden  death  of  Henry  are  well  known. 
The  power  of  Catherine,  of  the  Constable  Montraorenci  and 
of  Diane  de  Poictiers,  Duchess  of  Valentinois,  fell  with  the 
king.  Although  the  dauphin  complimented  his  mother 
with  the  title  of  Regent  of  France,  she  sr  on  discovered 
that  it  was  but  an  empty  honor.  Franci-  gave  all  real 
power  to  his  wife,  and  she  to  her  uncles,  the  Guises.  The 
Duke  Francis  and  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  really  ruled 
France,  and  Mary  was  guided  too  much  by  their  counsels 
in  the  affairs  of  Scotland. 

Nor  is  it  strange  that  she  gave  up  so  much  to  them,  for 
they  had  been  her  guardians  and  instructors  since  child- 
hood, and  she,  clever  as  she  might  be,  was,  after  all,  but  > 
girl  of  seventeen.  As  for  Francis,  she  was  his  kingdom 
and  leave  him  free  to  woi-ship  her,  he  cared  little  hew  mat 
ters  went.  But  the  thwarted  Catherine  soon  learned  tc 
hate  both  her  son  and  her  daughter-in-law ;  and  when  the 
day  of  her  power  returned,  was  not  slow  to  use  it  vin- 
dictively. 

In  the  meantime  the  Scottish  Parliament  had  granted 
the  crown  matrimonial  to  the  husband  of  their  queen,  and 
they  reigned  under  the  titles  of  both  realms.  The  solemn 
coronation  of  the  dauphin  was  celebrated  at  Rheims,  in 
September,  1559,  Mary  looking  on  as  a  witness  simpiy,  ai 
her  present  dignity  forbade  her  to  receive  the  French 


Wife  and  Widow. 


S8 


vrowD,  which,  in  accordance  with  the  Salic  law,  was  con' 
ferred  merely  as  a  favor  by  the  husband 

The  continued  infirmities  of  Francis  kept  them  moving 
about  the  country  from  one  royal  residence  to  another, 
and  as  his  incapacity  for  government  threw  all  the  influ 
ence  into  the  hands  of  the  Guises,  the  breach  between 
them  and  the  queen-mother  was  irremediably  widened. 
Closely  did  that  lady  lie  in  wait  for  her  daughter-in-law, 
but  she  could  find  no  fault  in  her;  no  point  that  she 
might  openly  blame. 

She  therefore  joined  the  conspiracy  formed  for  the  over 
throw  and  death  of  the  Guises,  the  imprisonment  of  the 
young  sovereign,  and  the  securing  of  the  government  to 
the  Prince  of  Condd.  In  this  were  implicated  the  king  of 
Navarre,  the  Admiral  Coligni,  the  Constable  Montmorenci, 
and  others;  but  they  were  betrayed  by  the  Huguenot 
lawyer  Avenelles,  deserted  by  Catherine,  and  the  youth- 
ful king  and  queen  were  obliged  to  witness  the  bloodshed 
and  horror  that  followed  the  discovery. 

George  Buchannan  was  implicated  in  this  plot,  and 
sentenced  to  death,  but,  with  great  diflSculty,  his  mistress 
managed  to  save  him.  His  style  of  gratitude  is  a  matter 
of  history,  to  be  read  by-and-by. 

This  marriage  year  of  Mary's  was  a  year  of  much  sor- 
row and  bereavement  to  her.  Her  father-in-law  had 
fallen  by  the  lance  of  Montgomery  ;  she  had  innocently 
acquired   the  hatred   of  the  queen-mother  ;  she  wai 


B4         Mary,   Queen   or  Scots. 

watched  by  the  spies,  and  pui-sued  by  the  implacable 
enmity  of  Elizabeth  ;  the  troubles  in  her  own  kingdom,  to 
be  reviewed  hereafter,  had  advanced  so  far  that  the  Protes- 
tant* had  asked  aid  from  England  against  their  own 
country,  and  a  force  of  six  thousand  Englishmen  had 
inarched  to  Edinburgh, 

Bravely  and  long  had  Mary  of  Lorraine  struggled  to 
maintain  her  daughter's  ancient  kingdom  in  loyalty  and 
harmony.  Had  any  one  been  able  to  do  it,  she  had  suc- 
ceeded. "  7oT  no  princess,"  says  Robertson,  "  ever  pos- 
sessed quaUties  more  capable  of  rendering  her  adminis^ 
tration  illustrious,  or  the  kindom  happy.  She  was  of 
much  decern  men t,  and  no  less  address  ;  of  great  intre- 
pidity and  equal  prudence  ;  gentle  and  humane,  without 
weakness ;  zealous  for  her  religion  without  bigotry ;  a 
lover  of  justice  without  rigor."  Yet  all  this  did  not  avail 
to  avert  the  fatal  hour  from  Scotland,  and  when  at  length 
the  English  troops  appeared,  her  high  spirit  broke  and 
was  resigned  piously  unto  Him  who  gave  it. 

She  died  in  June,  1560,  leaving  to  her  darling  child  one 
of  the  most  mournful  inheritances  that  princess  or  peasant 
ever  received. 

On  the  morning  of  the  fatal  tournament,  a  lady  of  the 
court  had  described  a  dream,  from  which  she  had  suffered 
the  preceding  night.  "  She  had  seen,"  she  said,  "  the 
king  fall,"  and  added,  "  that  a  splinter  from  Montgomery's 
lance  had  etn  ck  the  dauphin  on  the  ear  and  stretched 


Wife  and  Widow. 


55 


him  dead.''  It  seemed  like  a  prophetic  vision ;  for  now, 
December,  1560,  he  was  attacked  with  an  abscess  in  the 
ear,  and  an  acute  inflammation  of  the  brain. 

Tenderly  did  his  young  queen  watch  and  nurse  him,  but 
be  sank  gradually  until  ^he  5th  of  December,  when  ha 
yielded  to  his  disease.  When  the  last  offices  were  ad  mi- 
nistered  to  him,  the  feeble  boy  king  asked  for  absolution 
"  for  all  the  wicked  deeds  that  had  been  done  in  his  name 
by  his  ministers  of  state,'*  and  when  the  religious  duties  of 
the  solemn  hour  were  over,  he  appeared  to  have  no  earthly 
^-hought  but  for  the  pale,  fair  girl  who  sate  by  his  pillow 
weeping.  Earnestly  he  conjured  his  mother  to  be  kind  to 
'«er,  to  love  her  as  a  daughter :  as  earnestly  he  asked  hia 
isirothers  to  promise  that  she  should  be  a  beloved  sister  to 
tiiem;  and  so,  in  his  17th  year  of  life,  in  the  I7th 
month  of  his  reign,  Francis  II.  died. 

With  his  death  the  Guises  fell,  and  Catherine  de  Medic  is 
was  once  more  Regent  and  Mistress  of  France,  and  pre- 
pared to  avenge  upon  the  Queen  of  Scots  whatever  slights 
fihe  had  borne  during  that  short  sad  reign. 

Mary  was  now  an  orphan  and  a  widow :  her  protector, 
Henry  II.  was  dead ;  her  uncles  fallen  ;  her  royal  mother 
In-law  and  cousin  her  implacable  enemies;  her  birth  realm 
torn  by  conflicting  parties;  she  herself  a  poor,  young,  friend- 
less queen.  "She  was,"  says  the  English  spy.  Sir  Nicholas 
Throckmorton,  "a  heavy  and  dolorous  wife,  as  of  good 
tight  she  had  reason  to  be,  who  by  long  watching  with  him 


56 


Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 


through  his  rineteen  days'  sickness,  and  by  painful  dili 
gence  about  hira,  but  especially  the  issue  thereof,  is  not  in 
the  best  time  of  her  body." 

So  writes  Throckmorton  to  he:  foe  Elizabeth.  "Take 
care  of  her  for  my  sake,"  plead  the  dying  king.  "0 
Francis,"  exclaimed  Charles  IX.,  looking  at  her  portrait, 
"  happy  brother !  Though  your  life  and  reign  were  so 
short,  you  were  to  be  envied  in  this,  that  you  were  the 
possessor  of  that  angel  and  the  object  of  her  love." 

John  Knox,  recording  the  death  of  Francis,  speaks  of 
him  simply  as  "  the  husband  of  our  Jezebel." 

Mary  has  recorded  somewhat  of  her  own  feeling  of 
bereavement  in  a  letter  to  the  king  of  Spain,  and  in 
the  verses  that  close  this  chapter. 

"  You  have  consoled,"  she  writes  to  Philip  II.,  "  by  your 
letters,  the  most  afflicted  poor  woman  under  heaven,  God 
having  deprived  me  of  all  I  loved  and  held  most  dear  on 
earth,  and  left  me  no  other  comfort  save  that  of  seeing 
others  deplore  his  loss,  and  my  too  great  misfortune.  God 
will  assist  me,  if  it  pleases  Him  to  bear  what  comes  from 
Him  with  patience,  for  without  His  aid,  I  confess  I  should 
find  so  great  a  calamity  too  heavy  for  my  strength  and 
little  virtue.^ 

And  these  are  the  widow's  verses  : — 

The  Yoice  of  my  sad  song 
W!th  movrnful  sweetness  guldei 


Wife  a.nd  Widow 


My  piercing  eye  along 

The  track  that  death  divides ; 
Mid  sharp  and  bitter  sighs, 
My  youth^s  bright  morning  dies! 

Can  greater  woes  employ 
The  scourge  of  ruthless  fate  f 

Can  any  hope,  when  joy 
Forsakes  my  high  estate  ? 

My  eye  and  heart  behold 

The  shroud  their  love  enfold. 

O'er  my  life's  early  spring, 
And  o'er  its  opening  bloom, 

My  deadly  sorrows  fling 
The  darkness  of  the  tomb. 

My  star  of  Hope  is  set 

In  yearning  and  regret. 

That  which  once  made  me  gay 
Is  hateful  in  ray  sight; 

The  brightest  smiles  of  day 
To  me  is  darkest  night ; 

Ko  keener  pangs  contend 

Than  mine  their  stings  to  bleod. 

On  memory's  steadfast  throM 
One  image  ever  reigns. 

Whose  outward  name  alone 
My  garb  of  woe  maintains. 

And  violets  paint  my  cheek 

With  hues  that  lovers  seek. 

3* 


Mart,  Queen  oh  8got9. 


I  find  on  earth  no  rest, 
Unwonted  source  of  griel^ 

Yet  changes  may  be  bleat, 
If  they  can  bring  relief. 

The  world,  whatever  my  fiite. 

Alike  is  desolate 

When  to  the  distant  skiea 

I  raise  my  tearful  sight, 
The  sweetness  of  his  eyes 

Beams  from  the  cloudy  height. 
Or  from  the  clear,  deep  wave, 
He  smiles  as  from  the  grave. 

When  day's  long  toil  i  i  o'er. 

And  dreams  steal  round  my  oOimIl 

I  hear  that  voice  once  more, 
I  thrill  to  that  dear  touch. 

In  labor  and  repose, 

My  soul  his  presence  knowi. 

No  other  object  seems, 

Lovely  though  it  mhy  bCj 
What  my  sight  worthy  deemii 

For  others  or  for  me. 
My  heart  shall  ne'er  o'ertbrow 
The  summit  of  love's  woe. 

My  Bong,  these  murmurs  cease 
With  which  thou  hast  compUtneA 


Wife  and   Widow.  59 

Thine  echo  shall  be  peace! 

Love,  changeless  and  unfeigned, 
Shall  draw  no  weaker  breath, 
In  parting  nor  in  death.* 

Such,  for  her  perished  youth,  her  orphaned  loneness,  and 
her  dead  boy-husband,  such  was  the  lament  of  "  Jezebel !" 

*  I  find  tills  translation  In  Mrs.  Strickland*s  admirable  life  of  Mary.  Tte 
suthor  is  not  given. 


Chapter  VI. 


La  Blanche  Reine. 

In  Christendom,  at  this  period,  royal  ladies  wore  white 
as  mourning  for  forty  days;  and  this,  from  head  to  foot,, 
was  Mary  Stuart's  attire.  But  instead  of  keeping  the  per- 
fect seclusion  ordered  for  newly  widowed  queens  of  France, 
she,  in  her  frank  Scottish  way,  went  ^bout  so  continually 
among  the  poor,  relieving  and  consoling  them,  that  they  all 
knew  and  idolized  her,  John  Knox's  Jezebel  as  she  was. 
They  found  that  her  voice  was  sympathy,  her  touch  balm,  her 
presence  relief,  and  they  idolized,  the  poor  people,  that  pale 
young  royal  girl,  who  was  their  suffering  sister,  yet  tender 
friend  and  consoler;  and  to  this  very  day,  there  exists 
among  the  Parisians,  thoughtless  as  they  are  called,  aifeo- 
tionate  traditions  of  the  Fleur  d'Ecosse,  la  Reine  Blanche. 
Bran  tome,  in  his  Vies  des  Femmes  Illustres^  quotes  one 
poem  of  many,  inspired  by  her  touching  and  wonderful 
beauty  during  the  period  of  her  mourning. 

In  that  gloomy    mourning  chamber,"  she  passed  her 


La  Blanche  Reine. 


iighteenth  birthday,  alone  and  secluded,  in  tears  and  in 
prayer;  and  here  she  would  have  continued  in  comraunion 
with  her  husband's  memory  had  not  the  penalty  of  hei 
birth  prevented  her.  How  touchmg  was  the  device  and 
•notto  upon  a  medal  which  she  caused  to  be  struck,  and 
%hich  she  made  constant  use  of  at  this  time;  the  device,  a 
shrub  of  liquorice,  a  most  bitter  plant  whereof  the  root 
only  is  sweet,  and  the  motto,  Dulce  meum  Terra  tegity 
Earth  hides  my  sweetness. 

But  she  was  soon  taught  that  queens  have  not  the  privi- 
lege of  humbler  women,  to  bewail  their  dead  in  peaceful 
seclusion,  but  that  she  must  find  time  also  for  the  duties, 
however  unpleasant,  of  her  position — must  come  out  again 
into  the  stormy  world,  and  take  part  in  its  interests,  its 
Vfarfares,  its  struggles,  its  pomps,  and  its  griefs. 

She  was  obliged  to  receive  ambassadorial  visits,  and  was, 
even  at  this  time,  and  until  she  left  France,  under  incessant 
surveillance.  Catherine  watched  her  like  a  cat;  and  Sir 
Nicholas  Throckmorton  kept  steadfast  vigilance  upon  her 
words  and  even  her  manner,  reporting  faithfully  to  his 
queen.  But  he  could  only  write,  "  She  hath  showed,  and 
no  continueth,  that  she  is  both  of  great  wisdom  for  her 
years,  modesty,  and  also  of  great  judgment  in  the  wise 
handling  of  herself  and  her  matters,  which,  increasing  in 
her  with  her  years,  cannot  but  turn  to  her  commendation, 
reputation,  honor,  and  great  benefit  to  her  and  her 
©ountry.** 


62 


Maky,   Queen  of  Soo 


A  package  containing  treasonable  letters  from  some  of 
her  false  subje<.ts,  had  been  entrusted  to  a  merchant  named 
Francis  Tenant ;  but  that  loyal  Scot,  instead  of  giving  it  to 
Throckmorton  and  her  other  enemies,  gave  it  to  his  \\e^^ 
lady  and  mist/ ess.  And  from  it  she  in  the  gloom  of  soi« 
row,  learned  o?  the  baseness  of  many  whom  she  trusted; 
of  the  cruel  Dc;kchinations  of  Elizabeth,  and  of  her  own  expos- 
ure to  espic  iage.  Tenant  is  never  heard  of  again.  Aa 
Throckmorf  n  recommends  him,  however,  to  the  tender 
mercies  v^f ecil  we  may  guess  shudderingly  at  his  fate. 

Alrea/'y  her  re-marriage  was  the  prominent  point  of 
interest  >*mong  the  intriguers  of  all  parties.  Elizabeth, 
now  fii/.ing  with  Dudley,  Earl  of  Leicester,  who  had  mur- 
dered his  wife.  Amy  Robsart,  would  have  prevented 
any  match  with  Mary,  and  desired  nothing  so  much  as 
tu  get  that  unfortunate  princess  into  her  power.  But 
Buitors  for  the  white  hand  of  la  Blanche  Reine^  were 
abundant.  The  Kings  of  Sweden  and  of  Denmark  and 
the  brave  young  Prince  of  Orange  entered  the  lists.  The 
Prince  of  Spain  was  backed  by  the  Guises.  The  Earl 
of  Arran,  for  whom  she  had  been  demanded  when  only 
four  years  old,  renewed  his  suit,  backed  by  Montmorenci, 
and  the  King  of  Navarre,  although  at  that  very  time 
Arran  was  in  the  pay  of  England,  and  the  Protestant 
Monarch  was  plotting  to  divorce  his  own  excellent  wife, 
Jeanne  D'Albret,  that  he  might  himself  sue  for  th« 
band  of  Marjr. 


La  Blanche  Beikb. 


63 


The  Emperor  was  anxious  that  she  should  wed  his  son 
the  Archduke  of  Austria,  and  the  Lady  Margaret  Lehox 
had  sent  her  son,  Henry,  Earl  of  Darnley,  to  visit  and 
if  possible  to  ingratiate  himself  with  his  royal  kinswonjan 
But  all  these  suits  were  vain.  Mary's  sorrow  for  her 
young  husband  was  as  deep  and  sincere  as  her  aflfectioD 
for  him  had  been;  and  when  the  white  mourning  had 
been  laid  aside,  after  the  customary  period  had  elapsed 
and  the  ordinary  black  of  widowhood  was  assumed, 
she  wore  it  constantly  for  four  years,  long  after  her  return 
to  Scotland. 

From  her  dim  chamber  Mary  had  written  to  Scotland, 
to  inform  her  nobles  of  her  husband's  decease,  to  thank 
those  who  were  loyal  to  her,  to  offer  full  pardon  to  all 
those  who  had  offended  against  her  person  or  crown,  and 
to  express  her  intention  of  returning  soon  to  assume  the 
government  of  her  realm. 

She  was  visited  here  by  the  young  King  Charles  TX.^ 
who  was  excessively  fond  of  her,  and  by  all  the  royal 
family,  but  the  resolute  enmity  of  the  Regent  was  manifest 
to  her,  and  when  the  days  of  her  mourning  were  accom 
plished,  she  had  no  desire  to  go  to  Paris,  but,  as  Sir  Jame» 
Melville  says,  "  seeing  her  friends  disgraced,  and  knowing 
herself  not  to  be  well  liked,  left  the  court,  and  was  a 
sorrowful  widow,  at  a  gentleman's  house,  four  miles  from 
Orleans." 

Ber  strongest  desire  now  was  to  retire  to  Rheima,  aod 


64        Maby,  Queen  of  Scots, 

•pend  tke  residue  of  the  winter  there,  in  the  Cjuvent  of 
St.  Peter,  of  which  her  aunt,  Renee  de  Lorraine,  waa 
Abbess.    From  this,  however,  she  was  prevented  by  tlia 
Eirival  of  the  Earl  of  Bedford,  as  especially  ambassado 
from  Elizabeth,  to  condole  with  her  on  her  bereavement. 

This  nobleman  and  Sir  Nicholas  Thockmorton,  with 
whom  he  was  instructed  to  act  as  colleague,  were  received 
by  the  Queen,  at  Fontainebleau,  on  the  16th  of  Feb- 
ruary, and  delivered  the  letters  and  messages  with  which 
they  were  charged.  Mary  thanked  her  "  good  sister  "  fo'^ 
her  kindness,  and  promised  to  reciprocate  all  the  affec 
tion  which  that  princess  expressed ;  she  urged  the  necessity 
of  amity  and  friendly  relations,  for  she  said,  "We  are 
both  in  one  isle,  both  of  one  language,  the  nearest  kins- 
women that  each  other  has  and  both  Queens."  But 
»fli€n  those  replies  had  been  received  by  the  Englishmen, 
the  real  motive  of  that  mission  of  condolence^  was 
expressed.  Would  her  Majesty  be  pleased  to  ratify  the 
Treaty  of  Edinburg,  which  had  been  made  in  July  of  the 
past  year  ? 

The  religious  and  political  condition  of  Scotland  have 
Dot  been  touched  upon  as  yet,  from  a  desire  to  keep 
the  personal  narrative  as  unbroken  as  possible.  A  retro- 
spective chapter,  giving  a  risumd  of  such  matters  will 
oe  given  a  few  pages  hence.  Here  it  is  only  necessary  to 
state,  that  the  treaty  of  Edinburg  recognized,  in  th6 
•tronge&t  terms,  the  right  of  Elizabeth  to  the  English 


La  Blanche  Reine. 


65 


throne,  and  bound  Francis  and  Mary  never  to  make  use  of 
the  arms,  nor  to  employ  the  titles  of  King  and  Queen  of 
that  realm. 

Many  interviews  were  held  and  many  arguments  made 
086  of,  but  the  young  sovereign  had  but  one  answer  to 
give.  For  past  acts,  she  said,  she  had  been  under  the 
guidance  of  the  king,  ner  husband.  For  present  or  future 
actions,  she  reminded  them  that  she  was  young,  alone  and 
unadvised;  that  she  proposed  soon  to  return  to  Scotland, 
and  that  once  there,  she  would  consult  with,  and  be  guided 
by,  her  natural  and  feal  advisers,  the  nobles  and  counsellors 
»f  her  kingdom. 

In  vain  they  argued  the  matter  with  her.  Mary  had 
but  one  answer.  It  concerned  her  country,  and  the  wise 
imen  of  that  country  must  help  her  to  decide.  Alone,  and 
in  France,  she  would  do  nothing ;  so  she  recommended 
herself  to  the  amicable  feelings  of  their  queen,  and  dis- 
missed them,  baffled.  And  this  disappointment,  as  well  aa 
the  proof  of  wisdom  and  prudence,  thus  exhibited  by 
Mary,  exacerbated  the  already  chronic  malignity  of 
Elizabeth, 


Chapter  VII. 

Farewell  to  France. 

To  escape  frcm  the  constant  annoyances  to  which  sh^ 
was  subjected,  Mary  at  length,  March  26th,  set  out  foi 
Rheiras,  where  she  was  received  by  her  grandmother  find 
uncles.  And  there  it  required  the  whole  influence  of  hei 
family  to  prevent  her  immuring  herself  absolutely  in  Ihe 
convent,  from  taking  solemn  vows,  and  relieving  her  already 
world-wearied  heart  of  the  heavy  weight  of  royalty.  But 
this  was  not  to  be.  Bright,  beautiful  delicate  lily  though 
she  were,  the  shadow  of  the  cloister  wall  was  not  to  shelter 
her;  her  place  was  on  the  mountain  top,  and  in  the  storm; 
the  storm  that  was  to  destroy  and  send  her,  stainless  still, 
but  broken,  to  the  grave. 

She  remained  at  Rheims  but  a  few  days,  to  celebrate  thi» 
festival  of  Easter,  and  get  strength  from  earnest  prayer,  and 
then  departed  for  Joinville,  on  a  visit  to  her  grandmother, 
Antoinette  de  Bourbon.  It  was  a  sad  visit,  for  that  princess 
had  never  left  oflp  mourning  since  the  death  of  her  hus^ 
bani,  but  led  the  most  austere  life,  secluded  in  her  own 


Farewell  to  France.  67 


Diack  tapestried  apartments.  After  a  short  delay,  she 
Bet  out  for  Nancy,  in  Lorraine,  there  to  spend  some  tiim 
with  her  kinsfolk. 

On  the  road  thither  she  met  and  received  a  deputation 
from  Scotland,  inviting  her  to  come  back  to  her  kingdom 
as  soon  as  possible.  Both  parties  had  sent  delegates ;  the 
Catholics  commissioning  John  Lesley,  Bishop  of  Ross,  the 
Protestants  sending  her  base  brother,  the  Lord  James 
Stuart,  then  Prior  of  St.  Andrew's,  afterwards  the  Regent 
Murray 

The  former  wanted  her  to  land  at  Aberdeen,  where 
ftn  army  of  twenty  thousand  of  her  co-religionists  would 
yeceive  and  welcome  her;  but  her  unwillingness  to  apply 
f»ny  force  in  putting  down  the  opposite  party  caused  her  to 
inject  the  offer.  The  Lord  James  promised  her  obedience, 
assured  her  of  the  willingness  of  all  the  Protestant  party 
to  return  to  their  allegiance,  and  urged  her  to  come  at 
once  to  Edinburg.  And  at  this  very  time,  when  her  old 
affection  for  him  had  renewed  itself,  and  she  treated  him  with 
a  sister's  confidence  and  affection  :  at  this  very  time  he 
was  communicating  everything  he  could  discover,  and 
betraying  all  that  she  said  to  Throckmorton,  the  spy 

mbassador  of  Elizabeth. 
On  her  arrival  at  Joinville  she  was  waited  upon  by 

everal  Scottish  nobles,  among  whom  were  the  Earls  o1 
Eglinton  and  Both  well ;  the  latter  so  fatal  to  her  in  after 
rears ;  and  who,  at  this  time,  continued  in  attendance  upoL 


68         Mary,   Quee»   of  Scots. 

her  for  four  months.  The  Lord  James  remained  but  a  few 
days  and  then  returned  through  England,  where  he  met 
Elizabeth  and  revealed  to  her  all  he  had  learned,  and  laid 
plans  with  her  for  the  future  unhappiness,  dethronement, 
and  destruction  of  his  sovereign  and  sister. 

Meantime,  everybody  but  Mary  was  busily  anxious  about 
her  marriage;  giving  her  away  now  to  one  prince,  again  to 
another ;  but  Mary  went  quietly  on  her  way  to  Nancy, 
where,  at  least,  she  was  sure  of  sincere  affection. 

She  had  been  here,  however,  but  a  little  while  before  she 
was  attacked  with  a  fierce  tertian  fever,  which  so  seriously 
threatened  her  life  that  it  was  found  necessary  to  send  her 
back  to  Joinville,  'where  she  might  receive  the  unremitting 
and  assiduous  care  of  her  grandmother.  Even  at  thia 
time  it  was  with  diflSculty  that  Throckmorton  was  pre- 
vented from  importuning  her  with  renewed  entreaties  to 
ratify  the  treaty  of  Edinburg. 

One  pleasant  fact  relieves  us  for  a  moment  from  the 
record  of  her  suflferings,  of  court  intrigues,  and  national 
treacheries.  During  her  convalescence,  Mary,  in  her  ridei 
about  the  country,  observed  that  all  the  women  and  chil- 
dren were  occupied  in  straw-plaiting,  and  that  this  poorer 
class  was  happier  and  more  prosperous  in  Lorraine  than 
elsewhere.  She  connected  the  industry  with  the  pros- 
perity, and  resolved  to  introduce  it  into  her  own  kingdom. 
Accordingly  she  engaged  a  troup  of  plaiters  \o  go  with 
her  to  Scotland,  where  she  protected  them  until  her  power 


Farewell  to  Fkance.  69 


w^s  taken  from  her.  After  the  accession  of  James  VI.  to 
the  throne  of  England,  he  removed  the  little  Lorraine 
colony  to  Bedfordshire  where  they  prospered  ;  and  thug 
for  the  now  immense  manufacture  of  straw  hats  for  which 
>ngland  is  celebrated,  she  is  indebted  to  the  importation 
of  these  Lorrainers  by  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

The  young  queen  did  not  recover  until  the  middle  of  June, 
when  she  went  to  Paris,  making  a  public  entry  into  that 
capital,  being  received  at  the  Porte  St.  Denis  by  all  the 
princes  of  the  blood.  The  wonderful  respect  with  which 
she  was  treated  in  this  gay  court,  proves  as  much  for  her 
dignity  and  stainless  reputation,  as  the  love  of  all  the 
royal  family  but  Catherine,  and  the  almost  idolatry  of  the 
people,  does  for  her  gentleness  and  winning  kindness  of 
disposition. 

Throckmorton  stuck  gallantly  to  his  Edinburg  treaty ; 
but  annoy  and  importune  as  he  would,  he  could  get  no 
more  from  Mary  than  before,  except  indeed  expressions  of 
hope  that  the  queen,  his  mistress,  would  not  encourage  the 
Scots  in  disloyalty  and  disobedience  to  their  own  liege. 
Then  he  would  talk  of  religion  with  her  and  with  about 
the  same  success  She  promised  perfect  freedom  of  con- 
science to  her  subjects,  but  exacted  resolutely  the  same  for 
herself. 

"  I  mean,''  she  said,  "  to  constrain  no  one  of  my  subjects, 
and  I  trust  they  will  have  nc  support  to  constrain  me. 


TO         Ma.ry,  Queen  of  Scots 


The  relio'ion  that  I  profess  I  take  to  be  the  most  agree- 
able to  God,  and  neither  do  I  know,  nor  desire  to  know 
my  other." 

Meantime  she  had  sent  an  ambassador,  M.  d'Oysell,  to 
^inorland  to  notify  her  "good  sister  and  cousin''  of  hei 
intention  to  return  to  Scotland,  and  to  ask  for  free  passage 
and  safe-conduct  through  Elizabeth's  territory.  This  was 
instantly  and  peremptorily  refused  ! 

Poor  Mary  !  Invited  by  her  loyal  subjects  to  join  them, 
she  felt  obliged  to  refuse  them,  because  she  would  join  no 
party  as  such.  Invited  treacherously  by  her  brother  and 
othe^  great  nobles,  whom  she  knew  to  be  in  the  pay  of 
England,  and  of  three  of  whom,  the  Lord  James,  Lord  Mor- 
ton, and  the  laird  of  Lethington,  Randolph,  Elizabeth's  spy 
in  Scotland,  writes,  "  They  wish  that  she  may  be  stayed  yet 
for  a  space;  and  were  it  not  for  their  obedience  sake,  some 
of  them  care  not  if  they  never  saw  her  face."  Refused  safe- 
conduct  by  the  queen  of  England,  and  knowing  that  the 
Queen  Regent  of  France  was  careless  whether  she  evei 
reached  her  kingdom  or  not ;  with  the  knowledge  of  the 
divided  condition  of  things  there,  this  widow  of  nineteen 
certainly  found  herself  in  no  enviable  plight. 

But  she  had  now  only  one  duty  left  in  France;  it  was  to 
go  to  Fescamp,  in  Normandy,  there  to  superintend  the 
Boleran  burial  of  her  mother.  This  lady's  body  had  laii; 
nine  months  in  Edinburg  Castle,  and  nearly  three  at  Fes 


Farewell  to  Feakce. 


71 


canip,  and  now  only  was  it  removed,  v/ith  fitting  core 
menial,  and  laid  down  to  its  final  rest  in  the  church  of  Si, 
Peter  at  Rheims. 

Finally,  in  the  month  of  July,  Mary  left  Paris  forevei^ 
escorted  by  the  court  as  far  as  St.  Germain  en  Laye,  where 
she  had  first  resided  in  France,  and  where  she  would  nov 
have  taken  some  repose,  had  not  the  inevitable  Throclvmor- 
ton  appeared  again  to  attack  her  with  his  eternal  treaty 
of  Edinburg.  Had  she  ratified  that,  he  said,  Elizabeth 
would  have  given  her  a  safe-conduct,  and  entertained  her 
right  royally. 

Now,  Mary  Stuart  had  warm  blood  in  her  veins.  If  she 
had  been  patient  hitherto,  it  was  from  principle,  not  from 
Ia(  k  of  strength  or  fervor;  and  her  whole  stock  of  endurance 
behig  exhausted,  she  gave  her  whole  mind  to  Sir  Nicholas 
in  a  discourse  some  quarter  of  an  hour  long. 

First  she  accuses  herself  of  lack  of  dignity  in  asking  any 
fa\  or  from  Elizabeth;  then  she  reminds  the  ambassador  that 
Henry  VHI.  tried  unsuccessfully  to  catch  her  on  her  road  to 
France ;  and  that  by  God's  help,  his  daughter's  endeavors 
to  prevent  her  return  would  be  equally  fruitless.  She 
recalls  Elizabeth's  expressions  of  amity,  but  suggests  that 
that  sovereign  prefers  cultivating  friendly  relations  with 
Scottish  traitors  rather  than  with  their  lawful  queen.  "  I 
do  not,"  she  says,  "  trouble  Ler  state,  nor  practise  with  her 
BubjectSv"    "She  says  I  am  young;  she  might  say  I  were 


72         Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 


as  foolish  as  young,  were  I  to  transact  such  vital  business 
without  counsel  or  advice."  "  What  is  the  matter,  T  pray 
you,  with  the  queen,  your  mistress,  to  make  her  so  evil 
affected  towards  me?  I  never  did  her  wrong,  either  in 
deed  or  speech." 

Then,  with  an  argument  proving  the  absurdity  of  the 
request  that  she,  next  in  succession  to  the  English  throne, 
should  promise  never  to  assume  its  arms  and  style,  wlien 
the  only  obstacle  in  her  way  was  an  unmarried  woman  of 
thirty,  she  dismisses  the  question  finally.  At  the  satne 
time,  she  gives  conge  to  M.  TEmbassadeur,  with  these 
words : 

"  I  trust  the  wind  will  be  so  favorable  that  T  shall  not 
come  upon  the  coast  of  England  ;  but,  if  I  do,  then  sir,  tlie 
queen,  your  mistress,  will  have  me  in  her  hands  to  do  her 
will  of  me ;  and  if  she  be  so  hard-hearted  as  to  desire  my 
end,  perhaps  she  may  do  her  pleasure,  and  make  sacrifice 
of  me.  Perad venture,"  she  adds  sadly,  "  that  casualty 
might  be  better  for  me  than  to  live.  In  this  matter  God's 
will  be  done !" 

So  Mary  prepared  for  her  journey,  as  also  did  Nicholas 
Throckmorton.  He,  good  man,  advised  the  English  to  be 
constantly  on  the  alert,  for  Mary  trusted  no  one  with  hei 
plans  ;  so  that  "  if  you  mind  to  catch  the  Queen  of  Scot* 
land,  your  ships  must  search  all  and  see  all." 

The  queen  was  so  poor,  that  she  had  to  borrow  fot 
necessary  expenses  100,000  crowns,  and  give,  for  the  use  of 


Farewell  to  France. 


73 


die  money,  a  mortgage  on  her  dowry.  This  obtained 
Bhe,  attended  by  all  who  were  noblest  and  bravest  ii 
France,  set  out  on  her  journey  to  Calais. 

Meantime,  Throckmorton  gave  all  the  information  about 
her  movements  that  he  could  get  to  Elizabeth,  and  she 
sent  out  her  vessels  of  war,  with  instructions  to  capture 
the  Scottish  Queen.  Robertson  suggests  that  her  object 
was  only  to  rid  the  sea  of  pirates,  and  gives,  as  proof,  her 
own  assertion  to  that  effect.  If  such  were  the  case,  why 
was  the  galley  in  which  the  Earl  of  Eglinton  and  other 
lords  were,  taken  and  carried  to  England,  and  why  was 
Mary's  own  galley  chased  for  hours  ? — and  why  did 
Throckmorton  recommend  vigilance,  "  if  you  expect  to 
catch  the  Scottish  Queen 

Mary  had  been  royally  received  at  Calais,  where  she  waf 
obliged  to  wait  five  days  for  a  favorable  wind.  At  last, 
that  being  obtained,  two  great  galleys  were  placed  at  her 
disposal,  and  she  prepared  to  embark.  The  Duke  and 
Duchess  of  Guise,  and  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  accompa- 
nied her  to  the  shore.  More  than  a  hundred  gentlemen 
of  the  best  blood  in  France,  both  Catholic  and  Huguenot 
bad  constituted  themselves  her  guard  of  honor  to  Scotland. 
And  now,  when,  the  last  moment  had  come,  and  Mary  saw 
the  troops  of  weeping  servitors  around,  she  broke  out  into 
a  passion  of  sobbing.  Then,  embracing  her  kinsfolk  in 
(Silence,  followed  by  her  four  Maries  and  her  suite  of  nobles, 
she  went  on  board  hei  ship. 

4 


74 


Mary,   Queen  of  Soots. 


Scarcely  had  she  mounted  the  deck  when  an  »vii  omen 
occurred.  A  vessel  cominor  into  port  struck  a  rock  and 
sank,  and  many  were  drowned  in  her  sight.  "Ah,  my 
God,"  she  exclaimed,  "  what  a  portent  for  our  voyage  ia 
this  !'*  The  sails  were  bent,  the  galley  slaves  worked  at 
their  oars,  the  sea  hissed  round  the  advancing  bow,  but  she 
stood  motionless  upon  the  deck,  her  streaming  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  receding  shore.  Adieu  France  !"  she  sobbed  ! 
Beloved  France,  adieu  !" 

And  there  for  hours  she  stood.  Her  attendants  begged 
her  to  go  down  into  the  cabin  to  take  some  repose ;  to 
refresh  herself.  But  no,  there  she  remained  until,  to  use 
her  own  words,  "the  darkness  like  a  black  veil,  shut  out  the 
Bight  of  land,"  only  repeating,  "  Farewell,  0  France,  I  shall 
never,  never  see  thee  more." 

She  would  not  go  below,  but  cidered  a  couch  to 
made  for  her  on  deck.  Then,  requesting  the  helmsman  to 
wake  her  at  dawn,  if  land  were  still  in  sight,  she  lay  down 
and  sobbed  herself  to  sleep.  They  made  but  little  head- 
way and  at  daylight  the  sailor  awakened  her.  She  rose 
and  turned  once  more  toward  the  home  of  her  childhood 
tnd  youth,  until  its  shores  grew  dim  and  faded  away. 
ITien  with  one  more  earnest  cry,  "It  is  past!  Ferewell  to 
France,  beloved  land  that  I  shall  behold  no  more,"  8h« 
subsided  into  mournful  silence. 

Her  own  beautiful  song  of  farewell  is  well  known,  yet 
ought  to  be  reprinted  here  also. 


Farewell  to  Fra»cb. 


76 


Adieu,  plaisant  pays  de  P  rance, 

Oh,  ma  patrie 

La  plus  cherie, 
Qui  a  nourri  ma  jeune  enfance. 
Adieu,  France!  adieu,  nos  beaux  jours! 
Le  nef  qui  dejoint  nos  amours 
N'a  eu  de  moi  que  la  moitis. 
TJne  part  te  reste ;  elle  est  tieune. 

Je  la  fie 

A  ton  amitie, 
Pour  que  de  I'autre  il  te  souvienne. 

Once  only,  in  the  misty  haze,  the  English  cruisers  caught 
light  of  her  galleys  and  gave  chase.  Then  she  was  saved 
by  love  for  her  gentleness.  When  she  embarked,  she 
looked  pitifully  at  the  poor  galley  slaves  who  were  to  help 
the  progress  of  her  vessel  and  bemoaned  their  fate.  She 
had  no  power  to  set  them  free,  but  she  did  what  she  could  ; 
she  commiserated  their  forlorn  condition  and  ordered  that 
none  of  them  should  be  struck  or  otherwise  maltreated. 
And  when  the  English  vessels  hove  in  sight,  these  unfortu- 
nate men  remembered  the  tender  pity  of  the  beautiful 
young  queen  and  bent  to  their  oars  till  the  galley  fairly 
leaped  over  the  waves.  The  enemy  was  distanced,  and 
the  coast  of  Scotland  reached  in  safety.  As  aforemen- 
tioned, the  other  galley  was  captured  and  carried  tc 
England. 

Yet  for  two  whole  days  a  blinding  mist  kept  them  beat- 
ing on  and  oflf  the  coast,  not  knowing  where  they  were 


76 


Mart,  Queen  of  Scots. 


but  at  length  the  sky  grew  clear,  and  they  landed,  happily 
in  the  port  of  Leith. 

Down  crowded  from  the  capital  the  Scots  of  every 
degree,  to  welcome,  with  or  without  sincerity,  th^ir  beauti- 
ful liege  lady;  and  for  that  one  day,  at  least,  English 
intrigue  and  Scottish  treachery  had  no  power  to  annoy  Ver. 
Even  Knox  has  not  a  word  to  say  against  her,  though 
afterwards  he  blamed  her  for  the  fog,  which  "  was  so  thick 
and  dark,"  he  says,  "  that  scarce  might  any  man  espy  ano- 
ther the  length  of  two  pair  of  huttisP  "That  forewarn- 
ing," continues  that  gentle  and  saintly  man,  "  God  gave 
unto  us;  but  alas!  the  most  part  were  blind." 

And  now,  Mary  Stuart's  earlier  and  happier  life  is  done, 
rfo  far  as  we  have  the  writing  of  it.  and  we  have  but  one 
remark  to  make.  Her  after  detractors  accuse  her,  dunng 
this  period,  of  levity,  giving  as  their  only  reason,  that  she 
ived  in  a  frivolous  court  and  must  have  been  so.  Yet 
stern  Catherine  de  Medicis,  her  enemy,  the  indefatigable 
spy,  Throckmorton,  any  and  all  who  watched  her,  never 
uttered  one  accusing  syllable  against  her  demeanor,  while 
each  and  all  have  twenty  times  recorded  her  unusual 
gravity,  dignity  and  wise  deportment. 

The  time  has  now  arrived  for  a  review  of  the  religious, 
social,  and  political  condition  of  Scotland ;  and  that  grave 
topic  once  discussed,  the  persor.al  narrative  of  Mary's  life 
ihall  not  again  be  interrupted  until  the  axe  shall  hav<i 


Chapter  VIII 


Condition   of  Scotland. 

We  must  see  how  that  realm  of  hers  had  pFepared  itseli 
to  receive  Queen  Mary, 

Politically  it  was  vexed  by  the  rivalries  of  the  great 
nobles,  the  Douglas,  the  Hamilton,  loyal  Huntley  and  eveu 
**  fi^r  and  false  Argyle.'^  Many-^  were  the  paid  instrument* 
of  England,  nearly  all  were  turbulent  and  hard  to  rule. 
They  were  as  Mary  wrote  afterwards,  "  a  people  as  factious 
among  themselves  and  as  fass^ous  (troublesome)  for  the 
governor  as  any  other  nation  in  Europe."* 

Religiously  considered,  Scotland  was  in  a  very  disturbed 

condition.    As  early  as  1536  or  '7,  Henry  VIII.  had 

endeavored  to  induce  James  to  forsake  the  old  religion, 

oflfering  him  as  bribe  the  dukedom  of  York  and  the  hand 

of  the  Princess  Mary.    But  James  said  he  would  die  in 

the  creed  of  his  fathers,  and  so,  when  he  was  called  away 

he  left  his  realm,  still  nominally  a  Catholic  one,  to  th« 

regency  first  of  Hamilton,  duke  of  Chatelheraut*  and  afte^ 

vrarda  of  Marv  of  jorraine. 
« 

*Labanoff|fl.  40ii 


78 


Mary,  i^Jueen  of  Scots. 


This  lady,  though  a  wise  and  moderate  woman,  was  at 
the  same  time  a  zealous  Catholic;  and  she  did  all  she 
could,  without  having  recourse  to  violence,  to  restrain  the 
progress  of  the  new  opinions. 

But  under  the  leadership  of  John  Knox  and  Murray, 
then  the  Lord  James  Stuart,  the  Reformers  increased 
rapidly  in  strength  and  numbers.  In  1557,  the  people 
were  exhorted  by  a  proclamation  to  "separate  themselves 
from  the  congregation  of  Satan,  with  all  the  superstitious 
abomination  and  idolatry  thereof."  On  the  feast  of  St. 
Giles,  patron  of  Edinburg,  when  the  usual  assemblage  of 
**prie«it8,  friars,  canons  and  rotten  papists,"  was  formed  for 
the  Ufual  procession,  that  pageant  was  broken  in  upon  by 
the  reformers;  the  image  of  the  saint  seized  and  its  head 
^^dadded  against  the  pavement."  Its  predecessor  had  been 
Durnt  and  then  drowned  in  the  Norloch. 

The  breaking  of  the  procession  is  elegantly  described  by 
Knox.  "  Then  might  have  been  seen  as  sudden  a  fray  as 
seldom  has  been  seen.  Down  goes  the  Cross,  off  go  the 
surplices,  round  caps  and  cornets,  with  the  crowns.  Tlie 
Grey  Friars  gaped,  the  Black  Friars  blew,  and  the  priests 
panted  and  fled,  and  happy  was  he  who  first  got  the  house ; 
(or  such  a  sudden  fray  came  never  among  the  generation 
of  Antichrist  within  this  realm  before."  Then,  when  the 
victory  had  been  gained,  "  the  brethren  assembled  them- 
selves in  such  sort  in  companies,  singing  psalms  and  prais- 
ing God,  that  the  proudest  of  the  enemies  were  astounded."^ 

•  Knox,  aptid  Ben.  L  42. 48. 


Condition  of  Scotland. 


79 


Mary  of  Lorraine  now  resolved,  if  possible,  to  put  a  stop 
to  the  further  progress  of  the  movement,  and,  with  that 
view,  summoned  the  leading  ministers  of  the  Congregation, 
as  the  Protestants  were  now  called,  to  her  presence  at 
Stirling.  They  came,  but  attended  by  so  great  a  host  u 
their  people,  that  the  Regent  saw  that  any  attempt  to 
coerce  them  would  be  vain.  She  accordingly  refused  even 
to  receive  them,  coming  as  they  did  in  such  masse?,  and  sc 
they  dispersed,  the  principal  men  amongst  them  retiring  tc 
Perth. 

Here  Knox  preached  a  sermon  against  "Idolatry,"  which 
inflamed  his  adherents  to  the  utmost,  a  talent  which  h^ 
eminently  possessed,  being  characterized  even  in  his  old 
age  as  one  "  fit  to  ding  the  pulpit  into  blads  and  flie  out 
of  it."  After  the  sermon,  when  most  of  the  audience  had 
retired,  a  priest  entered  and  began  to  prepare  the  altar  foi 
celebrating  mass.  But  the  passions  of  the  people  were 
iroused  ;  a  stone  was  thrown  at  one  of  the  pictures  and 
gave  the  signal  for  a  general  onslaught.  Altar,  images 
paintings,  tombs  and  everything  were  demolished;  in  a 
little  while,  nothing  of  the  edifice  was  left  standing  but  the 
bare  and  battered  walls.  Meantime,  the  rest  of  the 
Reformers  stormed  through  the  city,  sacking  church  ar^' 
monastery,  and  convent ;  razing  even  to  their  foundafioi? 
the  splendid  structures  of  the  Grey  and  Black  Friars 

^  Pull  down  their  nests  and  the  rooks  will  fly  ogl*'  x^id 


80         Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 

^«%icjc;  for  an  eloquent  defense  of  the  principle  of  which 
advice  yon  may  turn  to  his  biographer,  M'Crie.* 

The  Congregation  and  its  backers  Avere  now  declared  to 
^  in  open  rebellion,  and  the  queen  raised  what  few  troopt 
she  could  in  Scotland,  and  procured  from  France  an  aid  of 
some  twenty-five  hundred  men.  The  Eeformers,  however, 
put  themselves  at  once  on  a  military  footing  and  pre- 
pared to  resist  any  coercive  measures  on  the  part  of 
government,  until  the  arrival  of  the  French.  Then,  the 
Congregation  applied  to  Elizabeth  for  aid,  who  furnished 
about  six  thousand  men. 

The  first  attempt,  on  their  part,  was  to  besiege  Leith, 
:hen  strongly  fortified  ;  but  it  was  stoutly  defended  by  the 
royal  troops  and  the  eflfort  proved  unsuccessful.  What 
might  have  been  the  result  of  a  continued  condition  of 
Buch  things  we  know  not ;  but  a  stop  was  put  temporarily 
to  civil  war  by  the  approaching  death  of  the  Regent. 
That  high-spirited  and  excellent  princess,  wearied  and 
heart-broken  at  last  by  the  turmoil  and  fret  of  so  stormy 
a  life,  found  that  her  end  was  drawing  nigh  and  turned  her 
thoughts  to  heaven  and  to  peace. 

She  called  the  nobles  round  her,  expressed  her  sorrow 
for  the  rent  and  suflfering  country,  and  advised  that  all 
foreign  troops,  French  or  English,  should  be  sent  out 
of  Scotland.    She  begged  their  love  and  reverence  for 

*  Bi  Presbyteiian  Board     PubUcation,  PJdladelphia,  pp.  174^  17& 


Condition  of  Scotland 


£1 


their  young  sovereign,  her  daughter,  and  profe§sed  hei 
own  affection  for  the  realm  which  she  had  tried  to  rule 
well.  Then,  bursting  into  tears,  she  embraced  them, 
one  by  one,  begged  their  forgiveness  for  aught  wherein 
she  might  have  offended  them,  and  lingering  thencei 
painfully  through  the  night,  she  died  in  the  early  morning 
June  10,  1560. 

Her  body  was  refused  the  rites  of  Catholic  burial,  but 
being  encoffined  in  lead,  lay  in  the  Castle  of  Edinburg 
until  the  following  March. 

Four  days  afterwards,  the  Treaty  of  Edinburg,  so 
frequently  alluded  to  in  the  last  chapter,  was  signed 
and  the  French  troops  were  withdrawn.  The  Congre- 
gation, backed  by  the  English,  had  everything  their  own 
way.  Leith  and  Dunbar  were  dismantled  ;  a  new  Con- 
fession of  Faith  was  set  forth,  the  Catholic  religion 
abolished,  and  its  oflBces  forbidden  to  be  celebrated  under 
a  penalty  of  death  for  the  third  offense. 

A  glance  at  the  principal  leaders  of  the  Congregation 
is  necessary  here,  for  the  better  understanding  of  tha 
condition  of  Scotland  at  the  queen's  arrival. 

The  first  and  most  considerable  was  her  base-bom 
brother,  James  Stuart,  afterwards  and  better  known  ag 
the  Regent  Murray.  His  valor,  sagacity,  perseverance,  and 
unscrupulous  ambition  entitle  him  to  the  first  place.  At 
the  early  age  of  seven,  his  father,  James  V.,  made  him 
Commendator  of  the  Priory  of       Andrew's,  the  riohest 


82         Mary,   Qcteen  of  Scots, 


benehc*  :n  Scotland,  avoiding  the  pioper  appointsient  of  a 
cleigvLCoJi  to  that  office,  that  its  revenues  might  accrue  to 
his  son.  While  Mary  was  a  child,  at  Dunbarton,  before 
her  departure  for  France,  he  used  every  possible  exertion 
to  secure  her  sisterly  affection,  and  so  deep  an  impression 
did  he  make  upon  the  heart  of  the  gentle  child,  that  she 
never  afterwards  could  distrust  him  with  that  perfectnesa 
of  sentiment  which  he  so  eminently  merited.  When  he 
visited  her  in  France,  he  renewed  his  professions  of  absolute 
devotion  and  obedience,  and  received  in  return  iier 
unlimited  a->nfidence,  so  far  as  to  induce  her  to  desire  to 
give  him  a  commission  to  govern  the  realm  in  her  absence. 
The  confideuce  he  betrayed  to  Queen  Elizabeth :  even 
advising  her  as  to  Mary's  projects  of  return,  and  of  the 
best  means  to  intercept  and  make  her  prisoner.  Cambden, 
in  bis  annals  jvrites,  "  James,  the  bastard,  having  returned 
from  France  to  England,  gave  advice  underhand  to 
intercept  her,  ooth  for  Elizabeth's  security  and  the  interest 
of  religion."*    His  late  life  is  interwoven  with  hers. 

Another  leader  was  James  Hamilton,  Earl  of  Arran, 
and  son  of  the  Duke  of  Chatelheraut,  who  had  been  Regent 
for  a  time  after  Mary's  birth.  He  was,  at  the  same  time 
suitor  to  Elizabt-th,  and  the  Queen  of  Scots. 

James  Douglas,  Earl  of  Morton,  who  played  fast  and 
loose  with  the  Congregation  until  he  found  them  the 
stronger  party,  was  a  third.    These  were  the  chief  Uj 

•  TytlerL,  860. 


Condition  of  Scotland.       8 J 

(eadere.  With  their  subordinates  the  reader's  acquaintance 
will  be  ih  ide  more  rapidly  than  admiringly.  Other  prin- 
cipal foemen  of  the  queen  were  clerk?. 

George  Buchannan,  a  very  learn^»d  man,  was  Latin 
tutor  to  the  queen,  and  attended  her  3uring  her  residenca 
71  France,  lauding  her  as  an  angel  upon  earth,  praising 
her  accomplishments  and  wondrous  beauty,  writing  the 
most  enthusiastic  epithalamium  on  her  nuptials  with  Francis 
II.*  She  saved  his  life  in  the  blood-.bed  which  followed 
the  conspiracy  of  Coligni,  and  heaped  favors  and  benefits 
upon  him,  among  others,  a  pensiop  of  500  pounds  per 
annum,  then  an  enormous  sum.  He  also  will  find  hi*  place 
in  this  record  of  the  life,  sorrows^  and  death  of  his 
mistress. 

And  last,  and  principally,  John  Kuox,  the  great  leader 
and  mainspnng  of  the  Scottish  Reformation,  equally 
remarkable  for  his  great,  rough  eloqn<^nce,  his  singularl} 
spiritual  power  and  his  unchecked  and  illimitable  brutality 
He  was  ordained  priest  in  15t30,  after  having  studied  at 
the  University  of  Glasgow.  Twelve  y^ars  later  he  joined 
the  Reformists,  married,  became  a  preacher,  soon  celebrated 
as  such;  and  for  his  enthusiasm  sufFipred  a  short  con- 
finement in  the  French  galleys.  He  was  so<^n  acknowledged 
head  of  the  Congregation,  and  deserved  that  position  by 
his  reckless  courage  in  the  contest  of  that  body  with 
government.    He  was  twice  obliged  to  al^scond.  Som^ 

*  8eo  Appeadiz  A* 


84        Maby,  Queen  of  Scot 8. 

time  he  passed  in  Geneva,  and  on  his  return  from  that 
celebrated  seminary  of  the  new  rsligion,  he  became  one* 
more  the  most  notable  of  the  Scottish  opposition. 

We  have  already  noted  some  of  his  acts  with  referenoi 
to  Queen  Mary,  of  Lorraine,  and  will  see,  in  the  course  of 
the  narrative,  his  influence  in  the  misfortunes  of  her 
Ruflfering  daughter.  His  love  for  the  former  may  be 
guessed  at  by  his  notice  of  her  illness  and  death  : — 
"  Within  a  few  days  after  began  her  belly  and  loathsome 
legs  to  swell,  and  so  continued  until  that  God  did  execute 
bis  judgment  upon  her."  "  She  was  clapped  in  a  coflSn  of 
lead,  and  kept  in  the  castle  until  carried  to  France.  God, 
for  his  mercy  sake,  rid  us  of  the  rest  of  the  Guisean  blood. 
Amen."* 

His  indomitable,  persevering  and  inhuman  hatred  for 
Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  is  one  of  the  most  singular  idio- 
syncracies  in  history.  He  maligned  her  very  birth,f 
asserting  her  to  be  the  daughter  of  Cardinal  Beaton.  He 
called  her,  as  a  child,  "a  plague  to  this  realm."  He 
welcomed  her  arrival  in  Scotland  with  these  words,  "  The 
very  face  of  the  heavens  did  manifestly  speak  what 
comfort  was  brought  with  her  into  this  country,  to  wit, 
Borrow,  darkness,  dolor,  and  all  impiety,"  and,  in  this  spirit, 
he  pursued  her  to  the  grave. 

There  are  but  three  suggestible  causes  for  this  feeling. 


«  KetU),  apud  Bell,  L,  49. 


t  Chambera  tL.  8L 


Coi^DiTioN  OF  Scotland 


85 


First,  that  it  was  from  motives  entirely  religioui  ,  that  his 
intense  horror  of  the  Catholic  church  made  him  also 
abhor  any  princess  or  other  powerful  person  who  was 
an  adherent  of  that  church.  Secondly,  that  it  was  a 
hallucination,  like  that  of  the  Thugs,  or  of  the  New  Haveo 
Wakemanites* of  our  own  day;  arising  from  the  ardor 
of  his  most  excitable  mind,  and  the  great  animal  heat 
of  his  blood.  Or,  thirdly,  that  it  was  instilled  into  him 
by  his  patron,  Douglas  of  Longniddrie,  in  whose 
family  he  was  tutor,  and  who  was  one  of  the  most 
shameless  of  Scottish  traitors  and  of  spies  in  the  pay 
of  England.  One  of  this  worthy's  letters  is  preserved 
in  the  State  Paper  Office,  wherein  he  betrays,  to  the  Lord 
Protector  Somerset,  the  Regent's  design  to  send  the  little 
queen  into  France,  and  reminds  him  of  the  promises  madi^ 
by  his  grace  to  his  (Longniddrie's)  wife,  saying  "  that 
no  had  done  all  in  his  power  to  serve  the  English  cause, 
both  during  the  battle  of  Pinkie  and  since,  by  which 
he  had  taken  great  skaith,  and  was  yet  without  his 
expected  reward,  and  hopes  his  grace  will  take  such 
services  into  due  consideration.'^! 

If  this  excellent  man  were  the  creator  of  Knox's  ideaa 
of  his  sovereign,  that  reformer's  treatment  of  her  and 
his  devotion  to  England  can  be  accounted  for  thus.  la 
the  meantime,  we  have  only  to  record  his  share  in  Marj\ 
life,  for  which  i  3  has  already  answered  elsewhere. 

«  Appendix  A.  2.  t  Mrs.  StaiQkkM<^<^M^QS  of  Scotland,  ill  25. 


86        Mart,  Qu££n  of  Sootb. 

Bacb  slight  sketch  of  the  country's  condition,  thd 
•f  the  chief  actors  in  the  drama  to  follow,  was  necdsbary 
to  show  how  Scotland  stood  when  its  young  and  widowed 
queen  set  her  foot  upon  its  shores  at  Leith  amic  ihn 
tomhling  bieakers  and  the  dank  and  eerie  mists. 


chapter  IX. 

First  Year   in  Scotland, 
1561. 

The  queen  landed,  as  we  have  seen,  at  Leitli,  but  so 
quietly  had  all  her  arrangements  been  made  that  the  royal 
salute  fired  by  her  galleys  gave  the  first  notice  of  her 
approach.  Then  the  people  poured  down  from  Edinburg, 
to  greet  and  welcome  her  back  to  her  kingdom.  Holy- 
rood  was  not  ready  for  her  reception,  and  she,  her  four 
Maries,  and  her  other  immediate  attendants,  were  obliged 
to  wait  in  the  house  of  one  John  Lambie,  at  Leith,  until 
the  afternoon. 

Then  Lord  James  and  other  of  the  nobles  came  down 
with  such  material  for  the  reception  of  their  royal  mis- 
tress as  they  could  get  together.  Mary's  fine  French 
palfreys  with  their  trappings,  had  been  taken  in  Eglin- 
ton's  galley,  and  were  now  in  England,  and  nothing  in 
horse  shape  appeared  but  the  rough,  uncouth  ponies  of 
Scotland     Indeed,  so  shabby  was  the  whole  reception, 


88         Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

when  compared  with  the  splendor  to  which  she  had  bwn 
accustomed,  and  so  hurt  did  the  young  queen  feel  at  th  % 
first  impressions  which  her  gallant  French  attendants  musk 
form  of  her  realm,  that  her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  How- 
ever, the  procession  was  formed  and  she  turned  her  face 
towards  her  capital. 

The  trades,  with  their  banners  and  devices,  were  drawn 
up  on  the  roadside,  and  such  music  as  Edinburg  could  fur- 
nish at  the  time  preceded  the  cavalcade.  Before  reach- 
*ng  the  city,  a  body  of  craftsmen  met  her  and  throwing 
themselves  at  her  feet,  besought  her  pardon.  It  appeared 
from  their  story,  that  the  Congregation  had,  at  one  fell 
swoop,  abrogated  their  ancient  sports  as  doings  of  the  evil 
one ;  a  measure  to  which  they  were  disinclined  to  suc- 
cumb. Accordingly,  they  had  organized  a  band  for  tlie 
representation  of  the  old  play  of  Robin  Hood,  one  Kellone 
performing  the  part  of  that  knightly  outlaw.  But  they 
had  chosen  Sunday  for  their  celebration,  for  which  gross 
profanation  their  sports  were  broken  up,  and  poor  Robin 
condemned  to  death.  The  crafts  however,  rose  to  protect 
their  fellows,  and  the  magistrates  were  kept  at  bay  until 
the  arrival  of  the  queen,  when  the  offenders  sought  and 
obtained  her  grace. 

The  city  was  illumiiiated,  and  bonfires  kindled  in  the 
itreets  as  Mary  made  her  way  to  the  palace.  Here, 
through  the  livelong  night,  yea,  for  three  nights,  her 
devout  lieges  serenaded  her  with  ill-played  violins,  thi 


First  Year  in  Scotland.  89 


4. 4ertainment  being  elegantly  interspersed  with  nasal 
pi^^lmody,  so  that  the  poor  lady  was  nearly  distracted  with 
discord  and  want  of  sleep. 

One  of  her  Maries  reminded  her  of  Bishop  Montliic*! 
advice  to  her  in  France,  "Is  any  one  merry,  let  hira 
sing  psalms,"  and  inquired  if  this  were  the  style  of  music 
to  which  his  lordship  had  referred. 

"Alas !"  said  the  poor,  tired  queen,  "  this  is  no  place  for 
mirth.  I  can  scarcely  restrain  my  tears."  That  nothing 
mi^ht  be  wanting  to  the  perfection  of  this  concert,  bag- 
pipes also  were  freely  used. 

"-^Te.^"  cries  out  the  astounded  Brantome,  "Ae.^  quelit 
mnsique  !  et  quel  repos  pour  sa  nuit 

Fortunately,  however,  other  chambers  were  got  ready, 
and  she  left  her  rooms  upon  the  ground  floor  for  those  still 
kpown  by  her  name  in  Holyrood,  thus  getting  out  of  hear- 
ing of  her  loyal  but  discordant  lieges. 

Then  the  nobles  came  to  pay  their  duty  to  her,  and  all 
were  won  by  the  grace  and  dignity  of  her  manner.  The 
black  weeds  of  her  mourninor  for  Francis  still  shrouded  her 
beautiful  form,  and  sadness  had  become  an  almost  habitual 
expression  of  her  face ;  but  she  had  been  educated  in  the 
most  polished  court  in  Christendom,  and  knew  how  to  con- 
ceal her  sorrow.  She  soon  appointed  two  almoners,  with 
•nstructions  to  seek  out  the  needy  and  relieve  them ;  set 
apart  a  portion  of  her  own  slender  means  for  the  education 


90         Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

of  poor  children,  and  refe'stablished  and  salaried  the  office 
of  Advocate  for  the  Poor. 

She  soon  proclaimed  the  establishment  of  the  new  reli- 
gion which  she  found  in  Scotland,  declaring  her  deter- 
mination to  punish  any  one  who  should  disturb  it,  but 
claiming  for  herself  common  liberty  of  conscience  and  th« 
right  to  exercise  the  duties  of  her  own  creed. 

Alas !  she  was  not  even  to  have  this ;  for,  on  the  very 
first  Sunday  after  her  entrance  into  Edinburg,  the  Congre- 
gation gathered  to  prevent  the  mass  which  she  had  ordered, 
from  being  celebrated  in  the  Chapel  Royal.  Patrick,  Lord 
Lindsay,  an  infuriate  bigot,  clad  in  complete  armor,  rushed 
through  the  streets  at  the  head  of  a  troop  of  the  brethren^ 
brandishing  his  sword  and  shouting : 

"The  idolater  priest  shall  die  the  death!" 

The  ecclesiastic  was  only  saved  by  fleeing  into  the 
queen's  presence. 

"This  is  a  fine  commencement  of  what  I  have  to  expect," 
exclaimed  the  outraged  and  indignant  sovereign.  "  What 
will  be  the  end,  I  know  not ;  but  I  foresee  it  will  be  very 
bad." 

She  then  gave  resolute  command  that  the  chapel  should 
be  instantly  prepared  for  the  sacred  olBfices,  and  that  the 
celebrant  should  be  respected.  But,  even  while  the  service 
was  proceeding,  the  Lord  James  was  obliged  to  stand  at 
the  door  to  keep  out  Lindsay  and  his  followers ;  and  aftei 


First  Teak  in  Scotland.  &J 

mass,  the  clergy  had  to  be  escorted  home  by  bis  iwo 
brothers,  the  Lords  Robert  and  John  Stuart :  and  so,  saya 
Knox,  "  The  godly  departed  with  great  grief  of  heart."  * 

This  was  followed  by  a  tremendous  blast  against  idolatry 
from  the  Reformer,  which  led  to  his  famous  interview  with 
the  queen — the  interview  in  which,  as  Randolph  writes  to 
Cecil, "  he  knocked  so  hastily  upon  her  heart,  that  he  made 
her  weep." 

Her  principal  complaints  to  him  were,  that  he  stirred  up 
her  subjects  to  rebellion ;  that  he  had  written  his  "  Blast 
against  the  Monstrous  Regiment  of  Women,"  against  her ; 
and  that  he  used  unnecessarily  rough  and  violent  language 
in  his  sermons  and  discourses.  He  got  rid  of  the  first  by 
declaring  that  the  commands  of  God  (i,  e.,  the  Congrega- 
tion) were  superior  to  one's  duty  to  any  earthly  ruler,  and 
that,  if  the  realm  did  not  object  to  female  rule,  said  he,  '*  I 
shall  be  as  well  content  to  live  under  your  grace,  as  Paul 
under  J^ero!^^  A  modest  and  natural  comparison  !  Truly 
says  Randolph,  "  She  is  patient,  and  beareth  much." 

The  "  Blast,"  was  written,  he  declared,  not  against  her, 
but  "  against  that  wicked  Jezebel  (Mary)  of  England." 
Then  she  tried  to  argue  a  little  with  him,  but  his  language, 
as  reported  in  his  own  history  of  the  Reformation,!  was  so 
boorish  and  violent,  that  she  could  only  burst  into  teara^ 
and  so  dismiss  him.  The  interview  did  good  to  neither, 
tt  merely  showed  her  more  plainly  her  desolate  condition^ 

•  Strickland,  iil,  212.  t  iL  288. 


92         Mary,  Queen  of  Soots. 

and  his  opinion  of  it  is  recorded  by  Limself.  If  there  be 
not  in  lier  a  proud  mind,  a  crafty  wit,  and  an  indurate 
heart  against  God  and  his  truth,  my  judgment  fails  me." 

Meantime,  the  ordinary  public  civilities  to  the  newly- 
arrived  sovereign  and  her  suite  were  not  altogeihef 
neglected.  At  the  head  of  the  French  nobles  who  had 
accompanied  her  was  her  young  uncle,  the  Marquis 
d'Elboeuf,  and  to  h-im  and  the  others,  the  provost  and 
bailies  of  Edinburg  determined  to  give  a  banquet, 
which,  to  the  horror  of  the  ministers,  they  gave  on  Sun- 
day, August  31.  The  very  magistrates  were  there  who 
wanted  to  hang  poor  Kellone  for  profaning  that  holy  day 
with  his  Kobin  Hood. 

But  the  dinner  was  given  and  eaten ;  and  then  Edin- 
burg prepared  for  the  grand  state  entry  of  the  queen  into 
that,  her  capital.  And  the  provost  and  bailies  bedizzened 
themselves  wi>h  velvets  and  tafietas,  and  "doublets  of 
cramosye,"  and  "  mcikle  French  blaber,"  whatever  that 
may  be,  and  recommended  the  young  men  to  make  them- 
selves as  fine  as  possible,  and  to  get  up  "  some  heau  abulzi- 
raent  of  taffaty  or  silk,"  all  of  which  was  lo}  ally  done  *'for 
the  pleasure  of  their  sovereign,  and  obtaining  Her  High- 
ness' favor.'' 

They  chose  a  queej  way  to  arrive  at  such  a  result,  for 
after  she  had  passed  some  fifty  youths,  disguised  as  blacka- 
moors, with  chains  of  gold  upon  their  limbs,  she  arrived  at 
an  arch,  where  she  was  presented  with  the  keys  of  th« 


FiEST  Year  in  Scotland.  93 

city,  a  Bible  and  psalm-book,  and  a  sliort  religious  dis- 
course from  a  "bonny  bairn."  After  that,  she  was  treated 
fco  a  pantomime*  view  of  the  punishment  of  idolatry,  aa 
exemplified  in  the  case  of  Korah,  Dathan  and  Abiram. 
It  had  been  intended  here  to  burn  in  effigy  "  a  priest  at 
the  moment  of  the  Elevation,''  but  the  powerful  Earl  of 
Huntley  prevented  it. 

Then  there  were  other  pageants  less  objectionable  to 
her  and  wine  ran  from  the  fountain  at  the  city  cross ;  and 
further  on,  were  "  ane  little  speech,"  and  something  burned 
in  manner  of  a  sacrifice."  Then,  at  the  Netherbow,  they 
burnt  a  dragon,  and  the  Queen's  Grace  heard  a  psalm 
sung,  and  finally  she  got  back  to  Holyrood,  where  some 
other  "  bairns ""  made  some  speech  concerning  the  put- 
ting away  of  the  Mass,  and  thereafter  sang  a  psalm."  The 
royal  lady  then  retired  to  make  of  her  reception  wliat  she 
could,  and  the  provost  and  bailies  went  home,  took  off 
their  velvets  and  their  "  doublets  of  cramosye,"  and  their 
"  meikle  French  blaber,"  and  so  became  mortal  again.* 

Recording  a  present  of  money  given  on  this  occasion  by 
the  magistrates  to  Queen  Mary,  Johti  Knox  remarks,  with 
characteristic  elegance,  "They  gave  her  some  taste  of  their 
prodigality;  and  because  the  liquor  was  sweet,  she  haa 
licked  of  that  buist  more  than  twice  since.'' 

Mary  soon  after  gave  her  first  grand  reception  at  Holy 
rood,  and  then  began  diligently  to  attend  to  the  affaii-s  of 

•Striekland,  iii.  224.   Chambers,  L  44  Bell,  L  128. 


04        Mary,  Queen  of  Soots. 

her  government.  No  easy  task  for  one  whom  Robertson 
describes  as  "a  young  queen,  not  nineteen  years  of  age; 
unacquainted  with  the  manners  and  laws  of  her  country,  a 
•tranger  to  her  subjects,  without  experience,  without  allies, 
and  almost  without  a  friend."  * 

The  great  Gordon,  Earl  of  Huntley,  a  Catholic  noble- 
man, was  appointed  Chancellor  of  the  Realm :  the  Lord 
James,  Secretary  of  State;  Maitland  of  Lethington,  Mak- 
gill,  and  Wishart,  brother  of  the  one  burned  for  heresy 
during  the  Regency,  all  Protestants,  formed  the  rest  of  the 
cabinet.  The  Council,  composed  of  twelve,  stood  seven 
Protestants  to  five  Catholics.  Among  these  notables,  the 
young  queen  came  every  day,  to  listen  and  take  part  in 
their  legislation,  always  sitting  there,  in  her  modest  beauty 
with  her  embroidery  or  other  female  work,  to  keep  her  busy. 
Besides  this,  she  ordered  the  courts  for  the  desolate  and 
poor  to  convene  three  times  a  week,  and  frequently  at- 
tended them  herself  to  ensure  justice ;  for  she  had  chosen 
for  the  legend  upon  her  new  gold  coin  Justus  Fid4 
Fm<"— "The  Just  shall  live  by  Faith." 

At  this  time,  September  6,f  she  entreats  Elizabeth's  aid 
to  destroy  piracy,  then  very  common  in  the  seas  aboui 
England  and  Scotland,  and  begs  of  that  sovereign  to 
encourage  the  relations  of  amity  and  mutual  good-will 
which  ought  to  subsist  between  them.  Elizabeth's  ambas- 
lador  was  exceedingly  distast€ful  to  Mary,    This  was  Sir 

•  Rob.  Hist.  Scot.,  p.  lia  t  LftbanolT,  I, 


First  Year  in  Scjotland.  1^3 


Psomas  Randolph,  whom  she  knew  for  a  spy  on  her 
actions,  a  wily  tamperer  with  her  nobles  and  a  sarcastic 
observer  and  reporter  of  all  that  transpiied  at  her  court. 
She  was  exceedingly  desirous  to  get  rid  of  this  man,  and 
endeavored  to  enlist  her  brother  to  procure  his  recall.  But 
such  a  course  was  not  within  the  scope  of  the  Lord  James' 
designs,  and  he,  now  in  the  fullest  confidence  of  the  queen, 
dissuaded  her  from  the  attempt. 

*'  At  least,"  she  said,  "  I  will  send  one  to  England  ag 
crafty  as  he." 

She  referred  to  Maitland  of  Lethington,  whom,  shortly 
after,  she  dispatched  to  the  English  court.  Crafty,  indeed, 
he  was,  but  not  for  her.  He  soon  became  the  paid  tool  of 
Cecil,  betrayed  his  mistress  and  contributed  a  full  share 
towards  her  future  misfortunes. 

In  order  to  become  better  acquainted  with  her  people, 
the  queen  determined  to  make  a  short  progress  through 
some  of  the  northern  counties ;  and,  accordingly,  she  and 
a  fair  retinue  started  from  Holyrood,  on  the  10th  of  Sep- 
tember. She  rode  on  horseback,  for,  at  this  period,  there 
was  but  one  wheeled  vehicle  in  all  Scotland,  an  ancient 
chariot,  imported  by  her  grandmother.  Queen  Margaret. 
It  may  be  mentioned,  also,  that  she  rode  upon  the  first 
Dommelled  side-saddle  ever  seen  in  the  kingdom. 

She  lay  that  night  at  Linlithgow,  where  her  infancy  had 
passed  in  the  times  of  King  Henry's  "rough  wooing*"  and 


96 


Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 


from  tb  fe  she  proceeded  to  her  royal  castle  of  Stirling 
Here  n  >re  danger  and  sorrow  awaited  her.  At  night 
while  was  asleep,  the  hangings  of  her  bed  took  fire 
from  a  light  standing  near  it,  and  she  was  with  diflBculty 
rescued  from  the  flames.  And  in  the  morning,  whil# 
engaged  at  her  devotions  in  the  chapel,  the  Lord  James, 
her  prime  minister,  and  the  Earl  of  Argyle,  her  justice- 
general,  entered  the  church,  and  in  her  presence  disturbed 
the  mass  and  assaulted  the  officiating  clergyman.  "  Both 
priests  and  clerks,"  writes  Randolph,  joyously,  "  left  their 
places  with  broken  heads  and  bloody  ears.  It  was  sport, 
alone,  for  some  that  were  there,  to  behold  it." 

And  then  at  Perth  again  she  was  greeted  with  insulting 
and  tasteless  pageants,  till,  sick  with  fatigue  and  chagrin, 
sho  fell,  fainting,  from  her  horse.  So,  after  a  little,  back 
agam  to  Edinburg,  just  in  time  to  hear  proclamation  issued 
by  the  magistrates — the  worthies  in  "  cramosye  doublets 
and  meikle  French  blaber" — commanding  "all  monks, 
friars,  priests,  nuns,  adulterers,  fornicators,  and  all  such 
filthy  persons,  to  remove  themselves  out  of  this  town  and 
bounds  thereof,  within  twenty-four  hours,  under  pain  of 
rarting  through  the  town,  burning  on  the  cheek,  and  foi 
the  third  offense,  to  be  punished  with  death."  * 

This  roused  the  blood  of  the  Stuart,  who  had  wasted  hei 
gentleness  so  long  upon  them.   Yet,  even  then,  she  neitbei 

«  Strickland,  ill.,  28& 


First  Teak  in  Scotland. 

Iniprifioned  nor  fined  them,  but  simply,  though  very  per» 
eniptorily,  commanded  the  town  council  to  dismiss  them  at 
once  from  office  and  elect  better  men  in  their  places. 

Her  mandate  was  obeyed ;  and  so,  in  the  chaste  and 
beautiful  language  of  Knox,  "The  queen  took  upon  her 
([greater  boldness  than  she  and  Balaam's  bleating  priesta 
durst  have  attempted  before.  And  so,  murderers,  adul- 
terers, thieves,  w  s,  drunkards,  idolaters,  and  ull  male- 
factors got  protection  under  the  queen's  wings,  under  color 
that  they  were  of  her  religion.  And  so,  |;ot  the  devil 
freedom  again."  * 

Towards  the  close  of  this  year,  the  Earl  of  Huntley 
writes  to  the  queen :  "  If  you  will  sanction  me  in  it,  I  will 
set  up  the  mass  again  in  the  three  counties."  Now,  the 
Earl  of  Huntley  was  the  last  of  the  Scottish  chivalric 
nobles :  no  stain  of  English  gold  was  on  his  hands,  no  blo< 
of  dishonor  dimmed  his  escutcheon.  He  was  very  power- 
ful. He  could  bring  twenty  thousand  men  to  the  field, 
and  if  unable  actually  to  fulfill  his  offer,  he  could  have  at 
least  reduced  the  Congregation  to  some  feeling  of  tolerance. 
But  Mary  had  proclaimed  the  fre^edom  and  establishment 
of  the  new  religion ;  had  given  her  promise  to  its  leadeni 
that  it  should  not  be  disturbed,  and  she  kept  her  word. 

She  was  threatened,  however,  with  a  league  against  her, 
headed  by  Hantley,  Chatelherault,  and  Arran,  with  the 
Protestant  nob-es  of  her  realm.    This  merely  added  anotbei 

«  Kiiox.  Hbt.,  7f92-t, 


M         Mast,  Queen  of  Scots. 

thorn  to  her  crown ;  but  she  steadfastly  kept  her  feith  and 

addressee  herself  to  the  care  of  her  government. 

About  this  time,  she  restored  to  Bothwell  some  landt 
foifeifced  by  his  ancestors,  including  Melrose  Abbey;  for, 
although  a  profligate  ruffler,  that  nobleman  had  been  a 
fiiithful  servant  to  her  and  to  her  mother  while  regent. 
New  favors  were  also  heaped  upon  the  ambitious  Lord 
James.  He  was  Lieutenant  of  the  Borders,  Earl  of  Mar, 
Commander  to  the  Queen,  and  looked  shortly  to  be  Earl 
of  Murray.  These  two  were  sent  with  some  troops  to  the 
borders,  which  were  then  infested  with  sanguinary  robbers, 
"  rievers,"  as  they  called  themselves.  Every  little  baron — 
every  Johnstone,  and  Armstrong,  and  Elliott — had  a  forti- 
fied tower,  and  a  quantity  of  reckless,  well-armed  thieves  to 
hold  it  for  him,  master  and  men  both  subsisting  on  plunder. 
In  this  single  excursion,  this  state  of  affairs  was  almost 
entirely  reformed,  although,  it  is  true,  by  very  severe 
means — hanging,  burning,  and  drowning  being  abundantly 
applied  to  the  malefactors. 

Meantime,  the  Congregation  were  discussing  the  ques- 
tion whether  "  the  princess,  being  an  idolater,  ought  to  be 
obeyed  in  civil  matters;"  and  according  to  Randolph, 
John  Knox  was  praying  that  God  would  "turn  her 
(Mary's)  obstinate  heart  against  God  and  His  truth ;  or  if 
the  holy  will  be  otherwise,  to  strengthen  the  hearts  and 
hands  of  his  chosen  and  elect  stoutly  to  withstand  the  rage 

all  tyrants."    Another  record  of  the  English  ambafssador 


FiKST  Year  in  Scotland. 


I  hibits  the  fruits  of  such  a  spirit.  "Upon  All-hallow i 
day,  (Nov.  1,)  the  queen  had  mass  celebrated.  That  niglwt, 
the  priest  was  well  beaten  for  his  reward." 

The  question  of  the  queen's  marriage  was  another 
•ource  of  discomfort  to  her.  Don  Carlos,  Archduke 
Charles  of  Austria,  King  Eric,  of  Sweden,  the  Duke  of 
Ferrara,  the  Prince  of  Condd,  were  all  open  suitors,  whii 
Arran  and  Sir  John  Gordon,  son  of  the  Earl  of  Huntley, 
also  aspired  to  the  honor  of  her  love.  All  this  greatly 
excited  the  jealousy  of  Elizabeth,  the  flattery  of  whose 
courtiers  could  not  satisfactorily  contradict  the  condemna 
Lory  evidence  of  her  mirror,  while  it  only  worried  Mary, 
who  at  length,  to  get  rid  of  the  matter,  declared,  "I  will 
none  other  husband  than  the  queen  of  England." 

Arran  was  crackbrained  at  the  time,  and  became  alto- 
gether crazy  afterwards;  so  that  there  may  have  oeen 
iome  foundation  for  a  report  which  now  startled  and 
alarmed  the  queen.  On  one  Sunday  night  in  November, 
it  was  told  her  that  Arran,  at  the  head  of  a  consLderabl* 
body  of  men,  was  marchmg  upon  Holyrood,  with  the 
design  of  carrying  her  off.  False  or  not^  it  had  the  effect 
of  making  her  tremble  for  her  personal  safety,  and  of 
inducing  her  to  form  a  body-guard  for  her  protection. 

It  also  brought  the  Duke  of  Chatelherault  to  the  ccurt^ 
for  the  first  time  since  Mary's  return.  He  denounced  the 
report  as  a  slander,  gotten  up  by  his  son's  enemies,  and  so 
ibd  matter  blew  over.    This  was  jbllowed  by  a  street  fighl 


100       Mart,  Queen  of  Scots. 

between  Buthwell  and  Lord  John  Stuart's  followers  on  om 
*ide,  and  Arran's  on  the  other.  It  rose  from  some  forcible 
gallantries  offered  by  d'Elboeuf  and  Bothwell  to  the  mistresa 
of  that  pious  leader  of  the  congregation,  Arran.  D'Elbceuf 
was  scolded,  Bothwell  banished  from  court  for  ten  days, 
and  60  that  matter  eiided, 

Then  for  the  thini  time  came  Arran  to  reveal  a  plot, 
whereby  the  Earl  of  Uuntley,  Bothwell,  and  Chatellierault 
were  to  murder  the  loiJ  James,  get  more  power  for  the 
Hamiltons,  and  strengthen  the  Catholic  interest.  Mary, 
hlarraed  for  her  brother's  riafety,  and  stimulated  by  hia 
feigned  fears  and  the  secret:  nmbition  which  nas  using  her 
affection  as  its  tool,  ordered  Obatelberault  to  deliver  up  his 
strong  castle  of  Dumbarton  and  thi'ew  Bothwell  into 
prison,  from  which  he  escaped  and  fled  the  country  for 
two  years. 

And  now  (Dec.  5,)  came  roand  the  mournful  anniver- 
sary of  her  young  and  beloved  husband's  death ;  a  day 
which  Mary  desired  to  celebrate  with  all  the  solemn  sad- 
ness and  hope  emblemed  by  the  ritual  of  the  church.  But 
she  was  disappointed,  at  least  in  any  hope  she  may  have 
entertained  of  sympathy.  Her  nobles  refused  to  weai 
mourning  for  one  to  whom  they  had  decreed  the  crown 
matrimonial  of  Scotland.  The  French  ambassador,  de 
Foix,  refused  to  attend  her  at  mass,  and  she  was  obliged 
to  issue  a  proclamation,  forbidding  personal  violence  to  the 


First  Tear  in  Scotland. 


101 


tr-iclesiastics  ^ho  were  to  officiate.  So  she  kept  her  sor- 
rows in  her  own  heart,  or  poiared  them  out  to  God. 

At  the  celebration  of  this  mass,  in  the  solemn  and 
glorious  requiem  music  peculiar  to  it,  was  heard  a  rich 
sweet  voice,  clear  and  iuW  above  the  others ;  a  voice  that 
shall  be  heard  again,  but  pleading  for  life,  and  mingling  ita 
wails  of  despair  with  the  horrified  shrieks  of  the  outraged 
and  insulted  queen.    It  was  the  voice  of  David  Riccio. 

He  had  come  to  Scotland  as  the  secretary  of  the  Count 
Moretta,  ambassador  from  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  and  as  he 
spoke  French  and  Italian  perfectly,  and  was  a  most  admir- 
able singer  and  musician,  Mary  had  begged  him  from  the 
court,  and  had  made  him  her  secretary.*  The  queen  had 
never  ceased  to  practise  music,  for  which  she  had  heredi- 
tary taste  and  talent,  both  sedulously  cultivated.  She 
sang  admirably,  and  played  the  lute  and  virginals,  and  it 
was  almost  her  only  pleasure  to  retire  from  the  council,  or 
to  shut  out  her  stormy  nobles  and  the  bigots  of  her  peo- 
ple, and  to  seek  refuge  in  the  soothing  power  of  the  sacred 
art 

Another  attempt  was  made  this  year  to  get  the  Edin- 
burg  treaty  ratified,  both  Throckmorton  and  Sir  Peter 
Mewtas  being  sent  to  Scotland ;  but  Mary's  answer  was 
still  the  same.  To  avoid  all  unnecessary  repetition  of  the 
arguments  and  of  the  Queen's  positions,  her  majesty's  letter 
be  found  in  Appendix  "B,"  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 

^  Labanofl;  vli  66. 


103       Mary,  Quken  of  Soots. 

The  year  closed  with  the  setftlement  of  church  property 
which  had  been  taken  from  the  various  religious  ordert 
and  the  secular  clergy.  What  the  laity  had  got  hold 
of  they  clung  to  pertinaciously,  and  the  ministers  of 
the  congregation  received  only  a  third  of  what  was  left, 
much  to  the  discontentment  of  Knox  who  complains  bit- 
terly. Yet  the  Comptroller  was  Wishart  of  Pitarrow,  for 
whom  the  Reformer  makes  a  singular  distinction.  "  The 
gude  laird  of  Petarro  is  an  earnest  professour  of  Christ,  bot, 
the  mekill  devill  receave  the  Comptroller  !"* 

Now,  if  Knox's  prayer  were  granted,  and  the  "  mekili 
devill"  did  "receave  the  comptroller,"  I  am  curious  to 
know  what  became  of  the  "  gude  laird  of  Petarro." 

So  passed  the  year  away,  with  some  little  pleasure,  h^t 
alas,  with  how  much  pain  and  annoyance  for  poor  Mary, 
ft  has  really  been  unpleasant  to  record  such  incessant 
troubles  from  turbulent  nobles  and  bigoted  religionists,  as 
the  history  of  a  year;  but  historians  furnish  no  other 
materials,  and  faithful  and  laborious  research  has  beeo 
unable  to  discover  any  more  sunshine,  in  these  first  twelve 
months  in  Scotland,  than  is  here  set  down.  Some  relate 
these  indignities  with  pity  and  shame,  others  with  unwor- 
thy and  cruel  exultation;  but  all  writers  on  the  period 
(iimish  the  facts,  and  .none  others  to  brighten  them  Hy 
sciitrast.    So  be  it    The  year  1561  is  gone. 


Chapter  X. 

Tht  Ruin  of  Gordon  of  Huntley. 
1562. 

The  wily  Lord  James  had,  as  early  as  1549-50,  looked 
ftbout  f^wf  a  wife  who  might  increase  his  store.  His  ey€ 
fell  upon  Christian  Countess  of  Buchan,  at  that  time  a 
mere  child,  and  satisfied  of  the  greatness  of  her  estate,  her 
uncle  and  guardian  was  persuaded  to  contract  her  to  the 
commendator  of  St.  Andrew's.  As  his  afBanced  wife, 
therefore,  she  grew  up,  but  not  to  marry  her  betrothed. 
He  had  cMscovered  a  better  way  of  coming  at  her  property. 
Her  grandfather  was  an  exceedingly  careless  man  in  busi- 
ness matters,  and  had  heavily  mortgaged  his  possessions. 
After  his  death,  the  Lord  James  carefully  bought  up 
th)se  mortgages,  persuaded  the  guardian  and  the  child 
t(  mtess  to  assign  the  lands  to  him  and  then  coolly  refused 
U  marrv  the  lady  whom  he  had  so  meanly  impoverished. 

Ihe  was  married  afterwards  to  Robert  Douglas  of  Loch 


104       Mart,   Queen  of  Scots. 

leven,  uterine  brother  of  Lord  James,  while  the  latte? 
in  February,  1562,  gave  his  hand  to  Agnes  Keith,  daughtex 
of  lb©  Earl  Marischal.* 

The  queen  graced  the  nuptials  with  her  presence^  and 
afterwards  gave  a  grand  banquet  to  the  bridegroom  and 
bride,  whereat  were  dancing  and  fireworks  and  all  mannef 
of  gaieties.  Ten  gentlemen  were  knighted  by  the  royal 
hand,  and  Mary  quaffed  a  goblet  of  wine  to  the  health  of 
her  good  cousin  Elizabeth,  and  presented  the  golden  cup, 
weighing  eighteen  ounces,  to  Randolph,  ambassador  from 
that  sovereign.  It  may  easily  be  supposed  that  all  these 
vanities  on  the  part  of  the  great  lay  leader  of  the  Congre- 
gation were  uncongenial  to  Master  Knox.  They  produced 
a  sour  rebuke  from  that  good  man,  and  the  rebuke  led 
to  a  rather  prolonged  coldness  between  him  and  the  bride- 
groom. 

It  is  strange  to  find  in  the  heart  of  John  Knox,  a  strong 
devotion  to  the  duties  of  clanship.  He  was  the  bom  vas- 
sal of  the  Earl  of  Bothwell,  and  when  that  noble,  taking 
advantage  of  the  queen's  absence  at  Falkland,  came  by 
night  to  Edinburg,  and  had  an  interview  with  the 
Reformer,  the  latter  received  him  with  the  greatest  respect 
My  grandfather,  guid  sire  and  father,"  he  said,  "  have 
served  your  lordship's  predecessors,  and  some  of  them 
have  died  under  their  standards,  and  this  is  part  of  the 
obligation  of  our  Scottish  kindness."    Bothwell  then  pre- 

*  Chalmers  U.  215,  920»  82S. 


G^KDON  OF  Huntley. 


105 


tended  great  sorrow  for  his  profligate  life,  and  for  injuries 
done  by  him  to  the  Congregation :  a  meeting  was  devised 
between  him  and  Arran,  whereat  they  were  reconciled, 
and  parted  friends,  with  the  blessing  of  Knox  to  confirm 
their  amity. 

**  But  little  recked  he  for  the  creeds 
Of  either  church  I  trow." 

His  object  was  to  inveigle  crackbrained  Arran  into  a 
acheme  to  abduct  the  queen  whom  he  already  loved  with 
passion.  He  easily  persuaded  him  and  his  father,  the  Duke 
of  Chatelherault,  to  join  him  (Bothwell)  in  his  scheme. 
The  queen  was  to  be  seized  while  out  hawking  at  Falk- 
land, the  Lord  James  and  Maitland  were  to  be  slain,  and 
her  nmjesty  compelled  to  marry  Arran.  Completely 
deceived  by  Bothwell,  both  father  and  son  joined  the  plot. 
But  reflection  on  it  turned  Arran's  head ;  he  grew  fright- 
ened, and  ran  blubbering  to  Knox  to  tell  him  he  had  been 
betrayed.  His  next  step  was  to  confess  it  all  in  writing  to 
the  queen,  a  step  whixjh  so  enraged  his  old  father,  that  he 
would  have  killed  the  weak  creature  had  he  not  fled. 

Bothwell  was  arrested,  sufficient  evidence  of  his  guilt 
was  discovered,  and  he  was  cast  into  prison.  Arran  wae 
Bent  for  and  found  to  be  perfectly  insane,  muttering  that  he 
was  led  astray  b^  devils  and  bewitched  by  the  Lord  James' 
mother.  Chatelheraut  put  in  his  usual  plea  of  slander 
and  so  contented  himself  with  bewailing  his  son's  mad- 


106       Mabi,  Queen  of  Scots. 

nesa.  Mary  with  her  usual  gentleness,  soon  forgave  Arran, 
but  she  remained  implacable  towards  Both  well.  After 
irards  on  the  trial,  the  duke  came  to  court,  threw  himself 
upon  his  knees,  and  begged  the  queen,  with  tears,  not  to 
credit  the  accusation  of  his  insane  son.  Mary  dealt  gently 
with  him,  only  taking  away  Dumbarton  from  him  and 
•ending  Arran  into  safe  keeping.  Both  well  remained 
three  months  in  prison,  at  St.  Andrew's,  and  then  effecting 
his  escape,  sought  refuge  in  his  own  well-defended  castle 
of  Hermitage,  and  afterwards  in  England. 

About  this  time  Mary  had  a  dangerous  fall  from  he» 
horse,  by  which  her  face  and  arm  were  severely  injured 
She  also  finally  rejected  the  suit  of  Eric,  King  of  Sweden, 
who  had  sent  an  ambassador  with  formal  proposals. 
"  Happy  the  man  who  of  such  a  one  was  forsaken,"  quoth 
Knox,  but  tastes  differ,  and  John's  does  not  appear  to 
have  been  the  popular  one. 

A  filthy  insult  was  ofiered  to  the  young  sovereign  while 
conversing  in  her  garden  with  Sir  Henry  Sydney.  A 
person,  called  Captain  Hepburn e,  approached  and  gave  her 
a  sealed  packet,  which  she  handed  unopened  to  the  Lord 
James.  He,  breaking  the  seal,  drew  from  it  an  obscen 
drawing  and  a  copy  of  ribald  verses,  which  he  wat 
indelicate  enough  to  show  her  before  the  Englishman 
Whosoever  planned  the  insult,  had  the  satisfaction  to 
know  that  it  made  its  wound.  Hepburne  escaped 
by  flight,  but  the  poor  queen    sickened  with  chagrin 


GoBDOM  OF  Huntley. 


107 


ftt  tho  grossness  of  the  outrage,  and  remained  ill  fol 
lome  time. 

The  great  object  of  tho  Lord  James'  ambition  was  to 
et  the  crown  of  Scotland  entailed  upon  him  or  his  heirs; 
the  second  in  importance  was  to  be  created  Earl  of 
Murray,  as  he  was  already  Earl  of  Mar.  This  favorite 
scheme  was  now  ripening  to  perfection.  The  greater 
part  of  the  lands  of  Mar  and  Murray  had  been  held  by 
the  great  Earl  of  Huntley,  upon  whom  they  were  bestowed, 
in  1549,  for  services  against  the  English.  In  1554,  the 
Regent  had  commanded  him  to  invade  and  lay  wa^te  the 
territories  of  Clanranald,  Donald  Goram,  and  Mac  Leod  of 
Lewis,  for  som«  offenses  by  them  committed.  Failing  to 
do  this,  the  lands  were  taken  from  him,  but  afterwards 
restored  as  a  five  years'  lease,  to  run  from  1559  to  1564. 

But,  now,  the  Lord  James,  whose  influence  with  hm 
«ster  was  paramount,  poisoned  her  ears  with  slander* 
against  Huntley,  and  got  her  to  bestow  upon  him  the  title 
of  Earl  of  Murray,  intending  that  the  property  should 
soon  follow  the  title.  Farewell  then,  so  far  as  this  work  is 
concerned,  to  the  Lord  James  Stuart,  Lay  Prior  of  St. 
Andrew's  and  of  Pittenweem,  Lord  of  Abernethy,  Strathena, 
Pettie,  and  Brachlie,  and  hail  to  the  Earl  of  Murray, 
in  three  years  more  to  be  Sheriff  of  Ross,  Sutherland  and 
Caithness,  Lord  of  Cardel,  Earl  of  Mar  and  Buchan,  Lord 
of  Braemar,  Croraar,  Strathdee,  and  Badenach,  and  Lord 
Warden  of  CuUodet. 


108 


Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 


Lorl  Huntley  was  born  in  1510,  and  was,  consequently 
fifty-two  years  old  at  this  period.  He  it  was  who  liked  net 
the  "  manner  of  Henry  VIII/s  wooing,"  and  who  had  done 
good  service  for  the  Queen  Regent  against  the  English. 
He,  who  stood  at  the  head  of  the  loyal  party  on  tiie 
queen's  arrival,  bad  warned  Mary  of  Murray's  craft  and 
ambition,  but  affection  had  deafened  her.  Her  brother 
lost  no  opportunity  now  of  influencing  her  against 
Huntley,  and  a  breach  of  the  peace  committed  by  that 
nobleman's  son,  Sir  John  Gordon,  came  aptly  to  his 
purpose.  Sir  John  had  fought  with  James  Ogilvie  and 
wounded'  him  in  the  open  streets,  for  which  he  was 
committed  to  the  common  gaol.  The  magistrates  were 
thanked  for  their  zeal  by  an  autograph  letter  from 
Mary;*  and  she,  persuaded  by  Murray  that  it  was  a 
purposed  insult,  resolved  to  make  a  northern  progress,  and 
to  institute  her  brother  into  the  earldom  which  she  had 
conferred  upon  him. 

She  set  out  with  her  train  on  the  11th  of  August  and 
on  the  27th,  arrived  in  Aberdeen,  where  she  remained  until 
September  1st.  Here  Huntley  met  her,  and  invited  Lci  to 
his  house;  but  her  suspicion  of  treasonable  designs,  on  hii 
part,  had  been  carefully  fostered,  and  she  refused  to  go 
But  after  stopping  at  several  towns  in  succession  until  her 
army  had  joined  her,  she  proceeded  to  Inverness,  and 
demanded  the  surrender  of  that  castle.    It  was  held  bj 

•  Labtnoff  L  14& 


Gordon  of  Huntley. 


109 


Alexander  Gordon,  for  Lord  Gordon,  its  hereditary  keeper, 
the  heir  of  the  Earl  of  Huntley.  The  demurrer  of  th€ 
Commandant  was  answered  by  an  instant  attack,  the  castle 
was  taken  and  Gordon  was  hanged,  his  Kalf  resistance 
being  qualified  as  treason. 

The  country  turned  out  to  the  queen's  assistance,  and 
she,  riding  at  the  head  of  her  troops,  turned  southward, 
bearing  stoutly  all  the  fatigue  and  uttering  no  complaints. 
On  her  way  southward  towards  Moray,  she  had  summoned 
two  strongholds,  belonging  to  Sir  John  Gordon,  to  sur- 
render. Their  keepers  refused,  and  she,  having  no  cannon, 
could  not  take  them ;  but  the  refusal  was  more  treason  on 
the  part  of  poor  Sir  John.  Again,  she  passed  Huntley 
Castle  and  refused  to  enter  it  and  in  a  privy  council,  it 
was  decided  that  Huntley  must  either  submit  to  every- 
thing, or  prepare  for  "  the  subversion  of  his  house  forever^^ 
He,  poor  gentleman,  had,  by  this  time,  procured  and  sent 
Jto  her  the  keys  of  the  two  strongholds  which  she  had  sum- 
moned, as  well  as  a  cannon  from  his  own  castle,  with 
the  loyal  message,  "  That  his  body  and  goods  were  at 
her  Grace's  commands."  The  Countess  took  Captain  Hay, 
who  was  sent  for  the  cannon,  into  the  chapel  and  there, 
before  the  altar,  protested  that  this  whole  procedure  wa?  a 
eligious  persecution  against  her  husband,  who,"  said  she, 
**was  ever  obedient  to  the  queen,  and  will  die  her  faithful 
Eubject." 

But  Murray  and  the  serpent  Mai tl and  had  at  ^ength 


110       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

Bucceeded  in  alarming  the  queen,  by  making  her  believ« 
that  Huntley's  object  was  to  seize  upon  her  person,  marry 
her  forcibly  to  his  son  and  slay  them,  her  faithful  counsellors 
Then  an  expedition  was  ordered  against  the  castle,  which 
they  found  wide  open,  with  the  countess  prepared  to  show 
them  princely  hospitality.  Huntley  himself  had  retired 
to  Badenach.  Another  privy  council  was  convened  and 
his  presence  commanded;  on  his  non-appearance,  and 
indeed  he  had  not  even  time  to  reach  Aberdeen  where  the 
queen  now  was,  he  was  pronounced  a  rebel  and  his  lands 
and  titles  declared  forfeited. 

He  sent  his  countess  to  the  queen,  but  she  was  denied 
an  audience ;  he  offered  to  give  bail  and  suffer  trial  by  the 
whole  nobility,  but  this  also  was  refused.  Then,  stung  to 
madness,  he  called  his  clansmen  about  him  and  defied,  not 
the  queen,  but  her  wicked  and  cruel  counsellor  Murray. 
That  Earl,  with  a  force  of  two  thousand  men,  met  his  unfor- 
tunate victim  backed  only  by  five  hundred  Highlanders,  at 
Corrachie,  some  fifteen  miles  from  Aberdeen.  Of  course, 
the  battle  was  soon  concluded ;  the  little  band  were  routed, 
and  Huntley  and  his  two  sons,  John  and  Adam,  taken 
prisoners.  They  set  the  old  noble  on  horseback,  to  carry 
nira  triumphantly  to  Aberdeen  ;  but  when  the  thought  of 
his  crushed  fortune,  his  ruined  family,  his  bitter  reward  for 
gallant  service  came  over  him,  his  proud  heart  broke,  and 
without  any  wound,  he  fell  down  dead  from  his  horse.* 

•  Chalmen  L  62—77 :  il  225,  287.   Bell,  1  137, 158.   RobortiOD,  US-fia 


Gordon  of   Huntley.  Ill 

Thus  died  the  best  and  most  loyal  of  Mary's  friendaj 
one  who  would  have  died  to  rescue  her  from  the  troublea 
that  soon  came  upon  her,  while  the  traitors  who  were 
undermining  hei  throne  basked  in  her  smiles  and  fattened 
on  her  favors.  Yet,  although  persuaded  of  the  justice  of 
hei  course,  Mary's  gentle  nature  was  greatly  shocked. 
Her  sadness  was  remarked  by  all,  and,  says  Knox,  "  For 
many  days  she  bare  no  better  countenance,  whereby  it 
might  have  been  evidently  espied  that  she  rejoiced  not 
greatly  at  the  success  of  that  matter." 

The  chapter  of  horrors  was  not  yet  full.  Sir  John  Gor- 
t<on,  one  of  the  handsomest  men  of  the  day,  was  tried,  con- 
victed of  treason  on  the  suborned  evidence  of  one  of 
bis  father's  servants  and  sentenced  to  be  beheaded.  The 
•oaffold  was  erected  under  the  windows  of  the  house  in 
Tvhich  Mary  lodged,  and  Murray  insisted  on  her  beholding 
the  execution.  But  when  she  saw  the  young  noble  fix  his 
respectful  eyes  on  her  and  then  kneel  down  before  the 
block,  she  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears  and,  sobbing, 
turned  her  head  away.  Then,  when  they  told  her  that  the 
headsman  had  bungled  and  merely  mangled  the  neck  of 
the  victim,  she  fell  in  a  dead  faint  from  her  chair,  and 
could  scarcely  again  be  recovered. 

Young  Adam  Gordon,  only  seventeen  years  old,  was 
sentenced  to  die  with  his  brother,  but  the  queen  would  not 
bear  of  it.  He  was  imprisoned  in  Dunbar,  and  oft«n  did 
M^irray  importune  the  queen  for  his  death-warrant.  Ai 


112 


Mary,  Queen  of  Scotb. 


the  steadily  refused  this,  he  forged  one*  but  it  wafc 
detected  by  the  keeper,  and  Adam  Gordon  lived  to  be  i 
Caithful,  loyal,  devoted  servant  to  Mary  in  after  days. 

Murray  has  nearly  culminated.  Huntley  is  dead ; 
Bothwell  in  exile ;  Chatelherault  and  Arran  in  disgrace. 
What  next  ?  Even  now,  as  Bell  says  : — bo,  though  with- 
out the  name,  is  King  of  Scotland,  and  Mary,  his  sister,  ii 
his  subject." 

♦BeU'8  Life  of  Mary,  -  151. 


chapter  XI. 

The  End  of  the  First  Period 
1563-5- 

Another  melancholy  fact  opens  this  year.  The  two 
great  French  Protestant  leaders,  the  King  of  Navarre  and 
the  Due  d'Amville  son  of  the  Constable  Montmorenci, 
although  both  married,  were  suitors  for  Mary's  hand, 
proposing,  on  the  least  sign  of  favor  from  her,  to  get  rid 
of  their  wives.  To  both,  her  reply  was  the  same : — "  I  have 
a  soul  and  I  would  not  endanger  it  by  breaking  God's 
laws  for  all  the  world  can  offer." 

D'Amville  had  accompanied  her  to  Scotland,  where 
he  had  remained  for  some  time.  On  his  return  to  France, 
finding  his  hopeless  passion  in  no  degree  abated,  he 
dispatched  his  friend  and  secretary,  Chastelar,  to  plead 
his  cause  anew.  This  gentleman,  also  a  Huguenot,  was  a 
nephew  of  the  famous  Bayard,  the  Chevalier  sans  peur  ei 
%ans  reproche^''  and  was  not  only  well  trained  in  all  knightly 
exercises,  but  also  was  a  poet  of  much  merit,  and  a 


114:       Mary,  Queen  of  Soots. 

rmisician.  Arrived  in  Scotlari-d,  he  soon  forgot  hit 
mission,  and  fell  in  love  with  the  august  lady  himselC 
She  was  pleased  with  his  songs  and  his  society ;  received 
his  compliments  and  flattering  verses  with  ordinary 
pleasure,  and  repaid  him  like  a  queen,  with  gold  and 
jewels. 

But  his  passion  became  a  monomania,  and  one  day 
in  February,  he  was  discovered  armed  and  concealed  in 
her  chamber.  Unwilling  to  shed  his  blood,  Mary  let  hira 
oflf  on  this  occasion  with  a  severe  rebuke.  But  all  thia 
only  made  him  worse  and,  at  length,  he  forced  himself 
into  her  presence  under  pretence  of  excusing  himself 
for  his  former  rudeness.  Then,  exasperated  beyond 
endurance  at  his  insult,  the  queen  called  loudly  for 
help  and,  on  the  entrance  of  Murray,  said, 

"  Stab  the  villain  with  your  dagger." 

Her  brother  preferred,  however,  to  hand  him  over  to  the 
magistrates  who  tried  him  and  sentenced  him  to  be 
decapitated.  He  walked  firmly  to  the  place  of  execution, 
saying,  "  If  not  sans  reproche^  like  my  uncle,  the  Chevalier 
de  Bayard,  I  am  at  least  sans  peur^  He  would  receive 
no  spiritual  aid  from  the  ministers,  uttered  no  prayer,  but 
after  reciting  Ronsard's  ode  to  Death,  laid  down  his  head 
upon  the  block  with  the  words,  "  Adieu,  most  lovely  and 
most  crviel  of  princesses." 

Murray  strove  hard  to  procure  the  death  of  young 
Gordon,  heir  of  Huntley,  but  Mary's  determination  waa 


End  of  the  First  Period.  115 


Irrefragable,  and  he  lived  to  become  her  chancellor,  in 
place  of  Douglas,  Earl  of  Morton,  a  fit  associate  of  Murray, 
and  on  whom  the  queen  had  bestowed  that  high  office 
after  the  mournful  death  of  the  old  Earl  of  Huntley. 

Many  a  private  source  of  grief  besides  had  this  unfortu- 
nate sovereign.  She  made  one  or  two  endeavors  to  soften 
the  rancor  of  Knox,  but  in  vain  ;  all  that  she  got  from  them 
was  language  that  made  her  weep  and  feel  more  and  more 
her  own  friendlessness.  Then,  again,  her  chaplains  and 
others  connected  with  the  religious  services  of  her  chapel, 
were  constantly  insulted  and  beaten,  until,  at  last,  her  chor- 
isters and  musicians  absolutely  refused  not  only  to  play  and 
sing  the  music  of  the  offices,  but  even  to  enter  the  chapeL 
Only  one  person  dared  to  follow  her  there,  a  crooked, 
ieformed,  ill-favored  little  man,*  but  marvelously  gifted  with 
voice  and  musical  talent,  her  secretary  David  Riccio,  and 
upon  him  alone  did  she  depend  for  the  chanting  of  the 
solemn  hymns  of  her  church's  liturgy. 

This  year,  too,  she  lost  a  beloved  uncle,  of  the  House  of 
Lorraine,  the  Grand  Prior  of  the  order  of  St.  John,  and  this 
cost  her  many  tears.  But  more  bitter  was  the  blow  when 
a  French  envoy  handed  her  a  black-sealed  letter  which 
informed  her  of  the  assassination  of  the  brave  and  gallant 

*  "He  w»8  a  man  of  no  beauty  or  outward  shape,  for  he  was  mis-shapen,  evil- 
fevored,  and  very  black ;  but  for  his  fidelity,  wisdom,  prudence,  virtue,  and 
other  good  parts  and  qualities  of  his  mind,  he  was  richly  fidomed.^*-— Shriek* 
kmd^i  Querns  qfSooiland,  liL^  note* 


116       Majiy,  Queen  of  Soots. 

Due  Francis  of  Guise.  "Monsieur,  my  uncle,  is  dead,"  di« 
Robbed.  "  Ah  !  Jesu  !  Jesu  and  then  she  shut  herself  up  in 
tier  cabinet  to  weep  for  him  who  had  been  as  a  tendei 
father  to  her  orphaned  youth. 

The  crops,  too,  threatened  to  fail  throughout  the  king- 
dom ;  a  famine  seemed  imminent,  and  Lent  was  proclaimed 
and  ordered  to  be  observed  again,  of  which  misfortune  the 
queen  was  of  course  the  author,  as  she  had  been  cause  of  the 
fogs  which  surrounded  Leith  on  the  day  of  her  arrival  in 
the  kingdom.  "  For,'^  says  Knox,  in  his  History  of  the 
Reformation,  ii.,  370,  "  the  riotous  feasting  and  excessive 
banqueting  used  in  court  and  country,  wheresoever  that 
wicked  woman  repaired,  provoked  God  to  strike  the  staflf 
of  bread,  and  give  his  malediction  to  the  fruits  of  the 
earth." 

Meantime,  a  parliament  had  been  held,  at  which  an  act 
of  oblivion  of  political  offenses  committed  between  March, 
1558  and  September,  1561,  was  passed.  The  queen  made 
a  speech,  which  was  enthusiastically  received,  and  a 
variety  of  laws  for  the  benefit  of  the  realm  were  made. 
She  had  gone  in  state  to  this  parliament,  regally  robed  and 
crowned.  Chatelherault  bore  the  great  state  crown, 
Argyle  the  sceptre,  Murray  the  sword.  Her  nobles  fol- 
lowed her  in  gorgeous  attire  and  her  ladies  accompanied 
her  also  in  fine  array;  unusually  so,  I  should  judge,  from 
the  mild  commendation  of  the  gentlemanly  pastor  of  St 


End  of  the  First  Period.  117 


GKfes.  "Such  stinking  pride  of  women  as  was  seen  at  that 
pj:rliaraent  was  never  before  seen  in  Scotland."* 

After  the  parliament  he  preached  a  sermon,  which  even 
Dr.  McCrie  f  acknowledges  gave  great  scandal  to  Catho- 
lics and  Protestants  alike.  He  so  far  forgot  himself  as  to 
gpeak  from  the  public  pulpit  of  the  marriage  of  his  sove- 
reign, and  to  express,  in  improper  language,  his  fears  that 
she  should  chose  a  co-religionist.  "Dukes,  brothers  of 
emperors  and  kings,"  he  says,  "strive  for  her:  but  this, 
my  lords,  will  T  say ;  note  the  day  and  bear  witness,  after 
whensoever  the  nobility  of  Scotland,  professing  the  Lord 
Jesus,  consents  that  an  infidel — and  all  pa^nsts  are  infidels 
— shall  be  head  to  your  sovereign,  ye  do  so  far  as  in  you 
lieth  to  banish  Christ  Jesus  from  the  realm.";);  In  his 
account  of  the  interview  that  followed,  in  which  she 
reproached  him  for  his  disrespect,  he  records  with  great 
glee  "her  owliiig  and  weeping"  at  his  language,  so  that 
"her  chalmer  boy  could  scarce  get  napkins  enough  for  her 
tears."  § 

Mary  journeyed  a  good  deal  about  the  southern  and 
western  parts  of  her  kingdom  this  year,  glad  to  get  away 
from  the  court  intrigue  and  pulpit  eloquence  of  Edinburg. 
In  the  summer,  she  made  her  first^  not  unhappy,  stav  at 
Lochleven.    Here  she  received  Randolph,  who  came  fresh 


•  Knov's  Hist.  Reformation,  It  881,  X  Knox  Hist  IL  SSCL 

f  life  cf  Knox,  257  §  Ibid. 


il8       Maky,  Queen  of  Scots. 

from  England  with  instructions  to  find  out  what  he  could 
with  reference  to  the  marriage  of  the  Scottish  queen.  He 
obeyed  his  orders,  absolutely  teasing  the  poor  lady  to  dis- 
co\er  her  intentions;  but  this  beiag  an  affair  of  matrimony, 
ter  woman's  wit  completely  foiled  the  astuteness  and  cun- 
ning of  the  wily  statesman.  Elizabeth  was  exceedingly 
anxious  that  one  of  her  own  subjects  might  find  favor  in 
her  "dear  sister  and  cousin's"  sight,  and  Randolph  tried  ta 
exact  a  promise  from  Mary  to  accept  this  English  subject. 
Who  he  was,  was  not  stated.  Chalmers  says  it  was  "  the 
man  in  the  moon ;"  but  if  that  were  true,  that  celestial  per- 
sonage was  soon  slighted  for  humanity. 

Several  Englishmen  were  spoken  of ;  some  of  them  mere 
barons,  of  no  particular  birth  or  importance,  until  at 
length,  the  soured  and  jealous  Tudor  had  the  insolence  to 
propose  the  minion  of  her  own  profligacy,  Robert  Dudley, 
Earl  of  Leicester,  murderer  of  his  innocent  wife  Amj 
Robsart.  Randolph  told  her  that  this  offor  showed  the 
affection  of  his  mistress ;  but  Mary  answered,  w3  can  fancy 
half  indignantly  and  half  laughingly, 

"  I  take  it  rather  as  a  proof  of  her  good-will  that  of  her 
sincerity,  seeing  she  so  much  regardeth  him  herself  that  it 
is  said  she  may  well  not  spare  him." 

But  to  avoid  any  further  notice  of  this  subject  hereafter, 
it  may  as  well  be  stated  that  Queen  Mary  had  already 
made  secret  choice  of  her  cousin.  This  was  Henry  Stuart, 
Ix)rd  "^arnley,  son  of  Matthew  Earl  of  Lennox,  and  of  tha 


End  of  the  First  Period.  119 


Lady  Margaret  Douglas,  grand-daughter  of  Henry  VII.  of 
England,  and  by  her  mother's  second  marriage,  step-daugh- 
ter of  James  IV.  Mary's  many  foreign  suitors,  backed 
fts  they  were  by  powerful  governments,  although  very  inte- 
resting to  Scotland  while  her  hand  was  free,  need  not  be 
farther  mentioned  here,  inasmuch  as  they  were  all  rejected, 
and  as  that  hand,  fair  as  it  was,  has  mouldered  into  dust 
two  hundred  years  and  more  ago. 

And  now,  as  the  second  great  era  of  the  Scottish  queen's 
life  approaches,  a  glance  at  her  character  and  ordinary 
occupations  since  her  residence  in  the  kingdom  will  be 
properly  given  here,  and  will  serve  to  close  the  chapter. 

The  clouds  are  gathering  thick  and  fast;  we  should 
look  carefully  at  the  victim  of  their  lightnings. 

We  have  endeavored,  in  the  progress  of  this  work,  to 
keep  clearly  before  the  reader  her  character  as  formed  in 
France,  and  as  developed  under  her  guides  and  tutors 
there.  Now,  in  her  fresh,  young  womanhood,  before  she 
puts  off  the  cherished  mourning  for  her  husband,  Francis, 
for  the  white  weeds  of  a  new  biidal,  let  us  look  at  her 
again. 

Diligent  as  she  was  in  the  business  of  the  nation,  she  yet 
never  entered  the  council  chamber  without  some  womanly 
work  to  employ  her  there.  She  seldom  slept  after  eight 
o'clock,  and  usually  retired  about  ten.  Throughout  the 
iay,  when  the  state  did  not  claim  her  time,  she  passed  it  in 
needle-work,  in  music,  of  which  ahe  was  passionately  fondi 


120       Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 


ID  daily  reading  of  some  classic  Latin  author,  Livy  being  hei 
favorite,  and  in  those  exercises  of  devotion  with  which  she 
permitted  nothing  ever  to  interfere.  Often,  at  night,  the 
halls  of  old  Holyrood  were  gladdened  by  dancing,  court 
masques  and  other  decorous  mirth,  hateful  to  the  Congre 
jation  but  attractive  to  the  participants.  She  hersell 
vould  play  upon  the  virginals  or  sing,  accompanied  by  thi 
ate. 

She  was  fond  also  of  out-of-door  exercise,  walking  oi 
riding.  She  loved  to  see  her  nobles  tilt  at  the  ring: 
above  all,  she  dearly  cherished  the  gentle  sport  of  falconry. 
Hawks  had  been  sent  her  from  the  Orkneys  and  she  flew 
them  with  pleasure  and  skill.  She  loved  the  open  air  and 
what  rough  exercise  her  sex  permitted  her.  On  her 
northern  tour  she  had  marched  at  the  head  of  her  troops 
unconscious  ot  latigue.  fene  was  exceedingly  fond  also  of 
flowers,  bestowing  great  personal  attention  upon  their 
rearing.  She  loved  all  pets,  particularly  dogs  and  birds, 
and  she  doted  upon  children.  In  her  household,  no  syl- 
lable was  ever  uttered  but  protestations  of  earnest  aflection 
for  her. 

She  was  endowed,"  says  the  French  historian,  Castel- 
nau,  with  more  graces  and  perfection  of  beauty  than  any 
other  princess  of  her  time." 

"  She  behaved,"  says  Melville,  so  princely,  so  honorably, 
and  discreetly,  that  her  reputation  spread  in  all  countries, 
afid  she  was  determined,  and  also  inclined  to  continu©  is 


End  of  the  First  Period.  121 


t^iat  kind  of  comeliness  even  to  the  end  of  her  life,  desirisg 
to  hold  none  in  her  company  but  such  as  were  of  the  best 
quality  and  conversation,  abhorring  all  vices  and  vicious 
persons,  whether  they  were  men  or  women." 

IIow  she  contrasts  with  the  petulant,  vain,  and  ill-favored 
woman,  whose  jealous  envy  of  her  fair  fame  and  number- 
ess  accomplishments,  wrought  out  a  scheme  of  more  than 
fiendish  ingenuity  and  cruelty,  terminating  in  the  breaking 
of  one  of  the  purest  and  iK>ble&t  hearts  God  ever  gave 
to  earth.  See  this  princess  asking  Melville,  which  were 
the  fairest,  she  or  the  Queen  of  Scotland?  The  canny 
Scot  said,  "  That  the  beauty  of  neither  was  her  worst 
fault."  But  the  question  was  repeated,  and  he  answered 
that  Elizabeth  was  the  fairest  queen  in  England,  as  Mary 
was  in  Scotland."  Again  insisted  on,  Sir  James 
answered,  "Both  were  the  fairest  ladies  of  their  courts, 
that  Elizabeth  was  whiter,  but  that  our  queen  was  very 
lusome,  (lovely.")  And  then,  after  asking  about  Mary's 
playing  on  the  virginals,  the  undignified  trick  to  show  off 
her  own  skill  to  the  Scot's  ambassador ;  her  exhibitions  of 
the  various  languages  she  knew ;  her  coquettish  tapping 
him  with  her  fan  and  calling  him  naughty  ;  her  dancing 
before  him  that  he  might  compare  her  with  his  mistress; 
her  showing  him  in  her  cabinet  a  miniature  of  Leicester 
with  its  legend,  in  her  hand,  of  "  My  lord's  picture 

this,  with  her  well  known  private  character,  make  a  sorry 

6 


123       Mart,  Queen  of  Scots. 

contrast  to  the  dignified  and  pure  beauty  of  Queen  Marjr'l 
ife. 

But  Elizabeth  was  rich  and  powerful ;  her  gold  bought 
locottish  traitori,  and  her  character  achieved  the  rest.  As 
Melville  had  foreseen,  so  fell  it  out.  "  Jn  Elizabeth's  con- 
duct, there  was  neither  plain  dealing  nor  upright  meaning 
but  great  dissimulation,  emulation  and  fear  that  Mary's 
princely  qualities  would  too  soon  chase  her  out,  and  dis- 
place her  from  the  kingdom."* 

And  this  fear  was  the  mother  of  an  unexampled  hate. 

♦  MclviUe,  apud.  BeU,  1 17T-a 


Chapter  XII. 

Second  Marriage. 
1565. 

TaK  intrigues  about  her  marriage  and  the  constant,  teas 
ing  endeavor  to  induce  her  to  renounce  her  religion,  so 
/exed  and  annoyed  the  unhappy  queen,  that  she  had  an  ill- 
ness which  caused  her  life  to  be  despaired  of ;  she  became 
subject  to  attacks  of  melancholy,  from  which  nothing  but 
music  could  distract  her ;  and  finally,  when  unduly  pressed 
by  Murray  on  the  subject  of  the  church,  she  offered  to  resign 
and  bade  him  "  take  the  thankless  burden  of  government  on 
his  own  shoulders."  This  offer  unveiled  his  ambition  too 
suddenly  before  hfen  and  he  was  alarmed.  Matters  were 
not  yet  ripe  for  his  supreme  power.  He  knew  well  the 
rapture  with  which  Mary  would  be  received  in  any  of  the 
continental  courts  and  he  dared  no  more.  So  that  passed 
over  and  the  irirtrigues  went  on. 

Elizabeth's  real  desire  was  to  prevent  her  marriage  at  all, 
inasmuch  as  such  marriage  suggested  the  birth  of  an  heir 


124       Mary    Queen  of  Scots. 

to  both  thrones.  Nearly  four  hundred  years  earlier,  wiM 
Sir  Thomas  of  Erci.doune  had  sung — 

"  The  French  Queen  shall  beare  the  son, 

Shall  rule  all  Britaine  to  the  sea, 
Which  of  the  Bruce's  tlood  shall  come, 
As  near  as  in  the  ninth  degree." 

And  this  prophecy  had  been  over  and  over  repeated^ 
having  been  directly  applied  to  Mary,  by  Alexander 
Bcott,  in  his  new  year's  address  to  her  Majesty,  1562. 

Now,  Queen  Elizabeth,  as  she  herself  expressed  it,  liked 
the  thought  of  a  successor  as  she  did  that  of  her  winding- 
sheet,  and  so  far  as  was  in  her  power,  she  would  prevent 
Mary  from  marrying.  Therefore  all  her  talk  about  an 
English  subject,  "  the  man  in  the  moon  therefore,  her 
final  offer  of  Leicester  whom  she  well  knew  no  self- 
respecting  lady  would  accept  and  whom  she  herself  never 
irould  have  resigned.  Randolph  himself  displays  her 
lesigus  by  his  daring  question  to  his  mistress,  "Whether, 
In  case  the  Queen  of  Scotland  could  be  induced  to  receive 
the  Lord  Robert  for  her  consort,  her  Majesty  meant  not  to 
consider  such  acquiescence  a  sufficient  warrant  for  marrying 
him  herself?^''*  Therefore,  her  endeavors,  eventually 
Ruccessful,  against  the  foreign  suitors  for  the  Rose  of 
Scotland,  and  therefore  her  use  of  Darnley  as  a  still 
further  postponement  of  so  unwished  for  a  consummation. 

Mary  had  no  desire  to  marry,  although  greatly  per- 

•Strloklaod,lv..(»L 


Second  Marriage.  125 


tfiiaded  thereto  by  her  own  court.  Her  four  Mauies,  Beton, 
Seton,  Fleming  aud  Livingstone,  had  vowed  never  to 
marry  until  she  did,  and  being  now  turned  twenty-two 
thought  it  was  high  time  for  a  change  of  name  and  con- 
ditien. 

Mathew,  Earl  of  Lennox,  had  lost  his  Scottish  estates 
for  treachery  during  the  last  reign  and  had  been  obliged 
to  flee  to  England,  where  he  was  well  rewarded  for  his 
services  to  that  kingdom.  Here  his  son  was  born,  in 
1542,  and  here  he  grew  up  as  an  English  peer  and  even, 
in  1563,  bore  the  sword  before  Elizabeth  as  a  prince  of 
the  blood.  Darnley,  as  we  have  seen,  had  made  an  incog- 
nito journey,  and  had  visited  his  royal  cousin  in  her  duh 
chamber  in  France,  and  now  his  mother,  the  Lady 
Margaret,  sent  privately  to  Scotland  to  ask  for  him  th^ 
hand  of  his  kinswoman  and  sovereign.  It  was  the  onl^ 
match  with  a  subject  of  Britain  that  could  even  be 
thought  of,  and  therefore  Mary  received  the  proposal 
respectfully  and  promised  to  take  it  into  consideration. 

Darnley,  though  four  years  younger  than  herself,  waa 
tall,  well  built,  a  proficient  in  manly  exercises  and  hand- 
some. He  was  nearest  to  the  thrones  of  Scotland  and 
England  after  herself.  He  was  a  Catholic  in  creed  and 
was  therefore,  foreigners  excluded,  the  most  leasonable 
match  that  had  been  spoken  of.  The  fact  that  he  was  not 
Elizabeth's  favorite,  may  have  lost  him  nothing  in  the 
Scottish  queen's  mind,  for  Mary  was  a  woman  and,  know- 


126       Mary,  Quekk  of  Scots. 

ing  Elizabeth  as  well  as  she  did,  had,  we  fancy,  no  great 
objection  to  a  little  womanly  malice,  especially  in  love 
matters. 

Accordingly,  in  September  1664,  after  an  exile  of 
twenty  years,  the  Earl  of  Lenox,  at  the  express  and  urgent 
request  of  Queen  Elizabeth,*  was  permitted  to  return  to 
Scotland  and  his  vast  estates  and  titles  were  restored. 
This  was  not  done  without  much  opposition ;  for  the 
ITamiltons  saw  themselves  by  this  measure  removed  further 
from  the  throne,  poor  crazy  Arran's  distance  being  greatly 
increased,  and  the  Congregation  feared  an  augmentation  of 
%e  Catholic  interest.  But  the  queen  herself  reconciled 
the  political  diflSculty,  and  Murray  wrote  to  the  religion- 
ists that,  by  the  queen's  goodness,  thej/  had  all  the  liberty 
of  conscience  that  heart  could  desire.  At  the  same  time, 
it  remained  penal  to  c-elebrate  Mass  anywhere  but  in  the 
queen's  chapel ;  and  the  Archbishop  of  St  Andrew's  was 
in  prison  for  breaking  this  law;  while  Knox,  anxious  as 
ever  for  his  sovereign's  welfare,  was  praying  daily  that 
ner  heart  might  be  purged  from  the  venom  of  idolatry, 
End  she  be  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  Satan."f 

On  the  7th  of  February,  Darnley  arrived  in  Scotland^ 
whence  he  proceeded  to  Edinburg,  where  he  was  respect- 
fully waited  upon  by  many  of  the  great  nobles.  Finding 
the  queen  absent  from  the  capital,  he  set  out  after  her,  and 
mot  with  her  in  Fifeshire  on  the  13th.    Mary  was  rathei 

•LabanolX,  I  285.  tHiit  Ref.  ii  43S. 


Second  Marriage. 


127 


pleased  with  him,  as  he  was  a  very  accomplished  draw 
ing-room  prince,  and  she  received  him  with  marked  kind* 
ness ;  and  there,  in  West  Wemyss  Castle,  he  enjoyed  som« 
few  days  of  pleasant  intercourse  with  her. 

He  preceded  her  to  Edinburg,  and  at  once  entered  upon 
Lis  duties  as  suitor.  She  danced  with  him  and  gave  him 
some  general  encouragement,  but  had  not  yet  made  up  her 
mind  positively  to  accept  him.  But  she  gave  banquets  and 
balls  in  his  honor,  and,  although  she  refused  him  at  his  first 
proposal  and  would  not  accept  from  him  a  ring  which  he 
oflfered,  yet  a  preference  for  his  society  was  very  evidenti 
and  unhappily  for  her,  that  preference  grew  rapidly  into 
love. 

We  say  unhappily ;  for,  however  externally  brilliant,  he 
had  an  empty  ambition  of  power  which  he  could  not 
wield;  was  vain,  foolish,  and  alas,  hopelessly  dissipated. 
Of  all  this  she  was  ignorant ;  she  saw  but  the  bright  exte- 
rior, and  so  soon  as  she  had  admitted  affec'tion  into  he? 
heart,  she  gave  herself  up  to  it  entirely  with  all  the  trust- 
ing lovingness  and  abandon  of  a  woman.  At  the  same 
time,  she  allowed  her  intentions  to  be  known  and  began  to 
marry  oflf  her  Maries.  Mary  Beton  was  in  love  with  Ran- 
dolph, who  used  her  affection  as  a  means  of  getting  at  the 
most  private  actions  of  her  royal  mistress.  Mary  Fleming 
was  in  love  with  and  afterwards  married  the  crafty  secre- 
tary Maitland  of  Lethiagton,  The  first  wedded  was  Mary 
Livingstone,  who  had  chosen  Sir  John  Senipill,  and  tha 


128       Mary,  Queen  of  Soots. 

ceremony  was  performed  at  court  in  the  presence  of  th6 
queen. 

And  now,  Bothwell  appears  once  more,  stormily  to  sue 
for  grace,  to  be  refused,  and  to  disappear  again  from  Scot- 
land. 

Darnley  had  already  made  enemies.  A  few  days  after 
his  arrival  in  Scotland,  looking  over  a  map  of  Murray's 
estates,  he  had  foolishly  said  to  the  brother  of  that  lord, 
that  they  were  far  too  extensive.  This  was  reported,  and 
Murray's  hate  was  the  reward  of  the  observation.  Finding 
little  support  among  the  nobles,  who  soon  discovered  his 
shallowness,  he  took  great  pains  to  ingratiate  himself  with 
her  French  secretary  Riccio,  who  had  many  opportunitie? 
of  leading  Mary's  thoughts  toward  her  marriage.  Riccio 
labored  faithfully  in  his  new  patron's  cause,  and  the  lattei 
was  profuse  in  professions  of  gratitude  and  promises  of 
advancement.  But  the  payment  which  the  musical  Italian 
received  for  his  devotion  will  be  seen  some  few  pagei 
later. 

At  length,  Henry  Stuart,  Lord  Darnley,  was  accepted  as 
the  betrothed  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots.  And  then,  in  its 
fierceness,  the  flame  of  opposition  broke  forth.  Elizabeth 
raged  like  a  piqued  woman.  Murray  gathered  his  friends 
broke  into  open  rebellion,  and  asked  for  aid  ft'om  England 
Elizabeth  stormed  after  her  manner,  which  was  violent 
She  seized  upon  Lady  Margaret  Lennox  and  threw  hei 
Into  the  tower.    She  recalled  the  Earl  and  his  son,  and 


Second  Mabriigb. 


129 


being  a'a>:beyed  both,  grew  still  more  furKK^*s  She 
gave  all  the  aid  and  countenance  she  dared  to  the  rebels. 
She  sent  our  old  friend  Sir  Nicholas  Throckmorton,  to 
remonstrate  with  the  Queen  of  Scotland ;  and  so  strong 
were  lier  instructions  to  Randolph  to  stop  this  marriage^ 
that  he,  when  baffled  in  conversation,  dared  to  say  to 
Mary,  "  that  the  queen,  his  mistress,  had  the  power  and  the 
will  to  be  revenged  both  upon  the  Lennoxes  and  her to 
which  Mary  expressed  a  hope  that  Elizabeth  would  change 
her  mind,  and  told  the  ambassador  he  might  go. 

To  Elizabeth  she  sent  John  Hay,  as  special  envoy,  with 
full  instructions  as  to  words  and  acts.*  "  You  shall  declare 
unto  her  that  whereas,  beside  our  expectation,  we  heard  of 
her  great  discontentation^  and  misriking  of  our  choice, 
^tc,  etc.,"  we  are  greatly  surprised  ;  "  thinking  rather  to  have 
received  good  will  and  approbation  of  our  intended  pur 
pose,  principally  in  consideration,  that  by  the  space  of 
m  whole  year  past,  we  have  always  understood  and  taken  it 
ror  her  meaning,  that  in  case  we  could  be  contented  to  for- 
oear  to  deal  with  the  houses  of  France,  Spain  and 
Austria,  and  join  with  any  subject  of  this  whole  island 
nd  especially  of  England,  that  then  she  would  most 
willingly  embrace  and  allow  our  doing.  And  when,  aa 
we,  folio wmg  the  same  her  advice  and  counsel,  and  movea 
by  it,  and  taking  a  greater  regard  of  the  same,  not  of  the 
advices  of  any  other,  our  nearest  friends,  which  for  bai 

•Laba?:off,  L  86T. 


130       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots, 

respect  we  passed  over,  and  disdained  to  iise,  had  thuf 

inclined  ourself  to  match  with  one  of  this  isle,  her  own 
subject  and  near  cousin,  and  thought  thereby  fully  to  have 
pleased  her;  when  on  the  contrary,  we  understood  hei 
laid  misliking  and  discontentment,  we  could  not  wonder 
enough,  finding  our  sincere  meaning  so  mistaken." 

In  the  same  letter,  Mary  protests  against  the  imprison- 
oient  of  the  Lady  Margaret,  after  Elizabeth's  visiting  and 
professing  great  love  for  her  a  few  days  before,"  and  ofiers 
that  she  and  her  youngest  soa  may  remain  in  England,  as 
Lostages  for  the  Earl's  gaod  conduct  In  a  word,  our 
good  sister,  "  the  maiden  Qiceen," 

"  Rare  maid  and  deter  sho  r** 

had  overshot  the  mark ;  and  the  princess  whose  childless 
death  she  most  desired,  was  betrothed  to  her  own  subject, 
and  that  subject  was  to  become  the  father  of  an  heir  to 
both  the  kingdoms.  An  heir,  born  of  the  "  French 
Queen,"  ninth  in  degree  from  Bruce,  should  call  this  young 
lord  father,  and  should  set  his  square  Scottish  body  down 
upon  that  seat  of  stolid  pride  the  Throne  of  England,  and 
unite  that  country  to  the  ancient  realm  of  Scotland. 

Elizabeth's  wrath  and  Murray's  rebelllun  were  both  ir 
vain.    The  die  was  cast  and  the  marriage  settled. 

There  exists  an  asserti<m  that  Mary  and  Darnley 
were  privately  married  on  oi  about  the  iVth  of  Aprilg 

•Aytouii'f  BottnreU. 


Second  Mabriagb. 


181 


bk  Riccio's  room  which  had  been  fitted  up  as  a  chapel  tof 
that  purpose.  This  story  rests  only  upon  the  authority  of 
an  anonymous  contemporary  Italian  memoir,  addressed  trorn 
Scotland  to  Cosmo  L,  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany.  It  says 
*  E^t  in  quel  mentre  conoscendo  David  di  far  piacere  ail 
una  et  all'  altra  parte,  tratto  che  insieme  consuraassero 
ii  matrimonio ;  il  che  tutto  fu  fatto,  et  fossero  da  un 
capellano  catolicamente  sposati  in  camera  di  esso  David, 
sensa  aspettare  il  ritorno  dei  due  che  furon  mandati  in 
Ingliilterra  et  Francia."* 

I  believe  this  to  have  been  a  mere  court  rumor,  arising 
from  her  affectionate  attentions  to  Darnley  in  his  severe 
illness,  and  caught  up  and  repeated  by  the  anonymous 
writer  of  the  memoir ;  as  it  was  by  Randolph,  who, 
Mrs.  Strickland  says,  makes  the  same  assertion.f 

I  believe  the  rumor  to  have  been  false :  1,  because  there 
is  no  fair  authority  for  it.  2,  because  there  was  no 
necessity  for  such  a  proceeding,  as  she  could  have  married 
Darnley  whenever  slie  chose.  3,  because  a  clandestine 
marriage  in  the  chamber  of  her  secretary  was  repugnant 
to  the  purity  and  dignity  of  her  character,  to  her  personal 
pride  and  to  her  highly  cultivated  sense  of  propriety 
4,  because,  if  true,  and  if  communicated,  as  asserted,  by 
Randolph  to  Cecil  and  his  mistress,  those  bitter  enemies  of 
Mary  would  not  have  lost  a  moment  in  publishing  so  grea. 
an  impropriety  to  the  world.    And  5,  because,  by  th^ 

•  Lab«i&ir,  t  atrickland,  W.  106. 


132       Maky,  Queen  of  Scots, 

eoiisent  of  al.  histomns,  it  was  not  until  the  lYth  of  Apit 
that  D'lrnlev  became  convalesoent  from  an  attack  o> 
measles  followed  by  typus  fever. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  Darnley  was,  soon  after,  once  mon 
stretched  upon  a  sick  bed ;  Murray,  Chatelherault  and 
others  were  moving  heaven  and  earth  to  prevent  the 
marridge,  and  Mary  was  ordering  gold  and  silver  cloths 
from  Antwerp,  to  replace  the  dark  robes  which  she  still 
wore  for  the  husband  of  her  young  love,  Francis  IT. 

On  the  15th  of  May,  she  called  an  assembly  of  her 
nobles  together  at  Stirling  Castle,  and  laid  before  them 
her  purpose  of  marriage.  It  was  unanimously  approved, 
even  Murray  passing  it  over  for  the  moment  with  a 
Bhrug  of  the  shoulders  and  without  voting. 

Shortly  after  the  queen  held  a  Chapter  of  the  Thistle, 
whereat  she  made  Darnley  and  fourteen  others  knights  of 
that  most  ancient  order.  Then  she  created  him  Earl  of 
Ross,  and  afterwards,  on  the  22d,  Duke  of  Albany 
a  Scottish  royal  title,  and  finally,  she  married  him  on 
Sanday  the  29th  of  July  1565. 

Before  this  however,  Murray,  who  had  retired  baffled 
from  the  assembly  of  nobles,  had  openly  declared  his 
rebellion.  He  gave  as  reason  for  it  his  old  excuse,  that 
'.ine  whereby  he  had  caused  Huntley's  ruin,  and  that 
whereby  he  hoped  to  cause  the  destruction  of  the 
Lennoxes.  It  was  that  Darnley  and  his  father  were 
at  the  head  of  a  plot  to  take  his  life.    He  even  went  so 


Second  Marriage. 


13'6 


fai  as  to  name  the  men  engaged  in  it,  and  mentioned  that 
he  who  was  to  strike  the  first  blow  was  poor,  little,  old 
cpooked  Riccio.  Again  and  again,  the  queen  besought 
hira  to  come  and  lay  his  cause  before  her,  assuring  him 
of  justice.  But  justice  was  precisely  what  he  was  most 
afraid  of ;  so  he  sheltered  himself  behind  his  feigned  fear 
of  assassination  and  evaded  compliance  with  her  com 
mands.  His  purpose  was  to  seize  her  as  she  rode  towards 
her  capital,  imprison  her  and  so  become  Regent  of  the 
realm.    He  had  Elizabeth's  promise  of  help. 

Dut  Mary  knew  well  his  plans  and  his  designs,  and  by 
^oing  before  the  time  appointed,  she  escaped  him.  Her 
own  account  of  his  arrangements,  to  M.  Paul  de  Foix, 
Ambassador  of  France,  is  full  and  clear.  We  quote  one 
»ientence,  to  show  her  knowledge  of  her  most  unfraternal 
orother's  design.  His  desire  was  to  slay  those  who  were 
qear  me,  and  among  other  murders  worthy  of  him,  lie  had 
(Conspired  the  death  of  the  king  (Dainley)  and  of  the  Earl 
of  Lennox,  while  I  should  be  going  from  St.  Johnston  to 
Edinburg,  to  make  ready  for  my  marriage,  and  he  intended 
to  throw  me  into  some  castle,  as  I  can  prove  by  hundreds 
of  gentlemen  of  his  band,  whom  I  pardoned  after  he  had 
fled  to  England."* 

Elizabeth  had  given  all  the  aid  she  could  to  the  rebels 
She  sent  one  Tamworth,  whom  Camden  calls  a  "forward, 
insolent  man,  to  remonstrate  further  about  the  marriage 

•  Labaaoff;  1.  80i 


134       Mart,  Queen  of  Scots 


but  iLis  worthy  was  refused  admittance,  and  departing  in  i 
huff  without  a  passport,  had  the  honor  to  be  confined  some 
days  by  Hume,  lord  warder  of  the  borders.  She  even 
sent  orders  to  her  lieutenant,  at  Berwick,  to  seize  upon 
Aymouth ;  but  the  discomfiture  of  the  rebels  obliged  her 
to  rescind  the  command.*  Her  minister,  Randolph^ 
exposes  her  desires  and  Murray's  plan,  in  a  letter  to 
Cecil.  Divers  of  the  other  side  are  appointed  to  set 
upon  the  queen^s  husband,  and  either  kill  him  or  die 
themselves.  They  expect  relief  from  England — long  pro- 
mised, but  little  received  as  yet.  If  her  Majesty  will  now 
help  them,  they  doubt  not  but  one  country  will  receive  both 
queen^yj[  And  let  it  be  remembered  that  the  Earl  of 
Argyle,  the  Earl  of  Rothes,  the  Lord  Boyd  and  many 
other  gentlemen  testified  before  Queen  Mary,  "  that  Mur- 
ray, at  this  time,  conspired  the  slaughter  of  Lord  Darnley 
and  to  have  imprisoned  her  Highness  in  Lochleven  and 
usurped  the  government."! 

This  subject  may  now  be  dismissed.  The  queen 
marched  against  the  rebels,  and  pursued  them  from  point 
to  point,  until  they  broke  up  and  their  leaders  fled  to 
England,  where  they  were  affectionately  received  by  the 
Earl  of  Bedford. 

But  to  return.  The  papal  dispensation  necessary  on 
account  of  the  close  consanguinity  of  Mary  and  Darnley 
having  arrived,  they  were  married  in  the  chapel  of  Holy 

•  Ghalmew,  1, 118.        t  Tytier*B  Enquiry,  L  871 ,         %  Tytter,  L  WT, 


Second  Marriage. 


135 


food^  by  Henry  Sinclair  Bishop  of  Brechin.  All  the 
forms  prescribed  by  the  Scottish  laws  had  been  observed, 
even  to  the  triple  publicatien  of  the  banns  in  the  Church 
of  St.  Giles.  The  ceremony  was  celebrated  about  halt-paat 
five  in  the  morning  (July  29)  and  after  the  marriage 
Darnley,  whose  religion  sate  very  lightly  on  him,  retired, 
leaving  his  bride  to  hear  mass  without  him.  Mary  was 
married  in  her  mourning  robes;  but  so  soon  as  the  services 
had  concluded,  she  laid  them  aside  for  the  gayer  apparel 
of  a  nuptial  feast.  The  usual  amount  of  feasting,  dancing 
and  other  rejoicings  followed;  money  was  thrown  plenti- 
fully among  the  people  and  there  was  a  fair  amount  of 
rejoicing. 

The  day  before,  she  had  issued  orders  to  the  Lord  Lion 
King-at-arms  to  proclaim  her  husband  king.  This  com- 
mand we  will  copy  from  Labanoflf,  as  a  favorable  specimen 
of  English  orthography  in  1565.*  It  is  about  the  same  in 
all  the  letters,  Mary^s,  Elizabeth's,  or  those  of  others  at  tha 
time. 

D*£dimbouro,  le  23  JuiUety  166& 
Marie,  be  the  grace  of  God  Queue  of  Scotland,  to  our  lovitti(3 
jyoun  king  of  armes,  and  his  brethir  herauldis,  our  shirriffis  in 
that  part,  conjunctlie  and  severallie,  specialie  constitute,  greeting: 
Forsamekill  (forasmuch)  as  we  intend,  at  the  plesure  and  will  of 
God,  to  solemnizat  and  compleit  the  band  of  matrimony,  in  face 
of  halie  kirk,  with  the  rycht  nobill  and  illustir  prince  Henrj,  Dak€ 


f  Labanofi;  L  271. 


136 


Maey,  'Quekk   of  Soots 


of  Albany;  in  respect  of  quhilk  marriage,  and  duriEg  the  tytnfl 
tliairof,  we  will,  ordane  and  consentis  that  he  be  namit  ,ind  stylit 
kiLg  of  this  our  kingdorae,  and  that  all  our  letteris,  to  be  direct 
eftir  oure  said  mariage,  sud  to  be  completit,  be  in  the  names  ol 
the  said  illuster  prince,  oure  future  husband,  and  us,  as  King  and 
f^uene  of  Scotland,  conjunctlie.  Oure  will  is  heirfoir,  and  we 
charge  you  straitlie,  that,  incontinent  thir  oure  letteris  seine,  ye 
pass  to  the  Marcat-Croce  of  our  burgh  of  Edinburg,  and  all 
utheris  places  neidfuU,  and  thair,  be  oppin  proclamatioun,  mak 
publicatioun  and  intimatioun  heiroff  to  all  and  sundry  oure  liegis 
and  subdittis,  as  apperteuis;  and  thairafter  we  ordane  thir  oure 
letteris  to  be  registrat  and  insert  in  the  bukis  of  our  counsall, 
ctd perpetuam  meinoriam^  quhairunto  thir  presentis  sail  serve  oure 
Clerk  of  Register  for  a  sufficient  warrand,  as  ze  will  answer  to  us 
thairupoun,  deHvering  thir  oure  letteris,  be  yow  dulie  execut  and 
indorsat,  againe  to  the  berare. 

Subscrivit  with  our  hand,  and  gevin  under  our  signet  at 
Halieruidhouse,  the  xxvirj  day  of  jnlii,  and  of  our  reign  the  xxiij 
leir 

Mabie,  R 

We  should  mention  here  that,  when  her  brother  broke 
out  into  open  rebellion  and  steadfastly  refused  to  obey  his 
sovereign,  the  Earls  of  Bothwell  and  Sutherland  had  been 
recaiisd  from  vanishment  and  Georofe  Gordon  taken  from 
prison  and  reSv^^rod  .to  all  the  estates  and  honors  of  hi3 
father,  Lord  Huntley. 

After  his  marriage,  Darnley  determined  to  try  and 
curry  favor  with  Knox  by  going  to  hear  him  preach.  The 
text  chosen  was  "O  Lord  our  God,  other  lorda  than  Tbou 


Second  Marriage. 


137 


have  ruled  over  us,"  and  the  young  king  had  the  satisfac 
tion  of  hearino^  himself  called  "Ahab"  and  his  wife  ^^Jez^ 
bel."    For  the  gross  indecency  of  this  discourse,  Knox  was 
called  be^:>re  the  council  and  tried,  but  with  his  usual  luck 
he  escaj>ed  punishment. 


Chapter  XIII. 


The  Murder  of  David  Riccio 

1366. 

The  double  part  which  Elizabeth  found  il  so  convenient 
to  play  still  went  on.  She  declared  to  the  French  ambas- 
sador, M.  de  Foix,  that  the  dearest  desire  of  her  hearl 
?ras  to,  retain  the  good  will  and  aniity  of  her  dear  sister 
and  cousin  of  Scotland.  She  received,  with  feigned 
expressions  of  regret,  all  Mary's  complaints  against  Ran- 
dolph and  her  proofs  that  he  had  supplied  the  rebels  with 
money,  three  thousand  crowns  at  one  time.  She  declared 
to  the  King  of  France  and  to  his  envoys,  that  she  had 
never  aided  or  countenanced  the  insurgents.  She  per 
mitted  the  dismissal  of  Randolph  without  a  word  in 
his  favor,*  and,  finally,  when  Murray  and  his  colleagues, 
whom  she  had  favored,  as  seen  in  the  proceeding  chapter, 
obtained  admission  to  her  presence,  they,  agreeable  to  their 

^  Por  all  the  proo&  of  this  nefarious  traosactlon  see  In  LalbanoffVta^  lettezi 
fromllAxy  to  Elizabeth,  I,  S16, 819, 826i» 


Murder  of  David  Eiccio.  139 


Instructions,  declared,  before  \lie  Spanish  and  French 
ambassadors,  that  she  had  given  them  no  succor  nor 
encouragement.    Then  she  addressed  them  as  follows: — 

"You  have  declared  the  truth.  I  am  far  from  setting 
an  example  of  rebellion  to  my  own  subjects,  by  coun- 
tenancing those  who  rebel  against  their  lawful  prince. 
The  treason  of  which  you  have  been  guilty  is  detestable, 
and,  as  traitors,  I  banish  you  from  my  presence." 

After  which  excellent  speech,  she  dismissed  them  from 
her  august  presence  but  permitted  them  to  reside 
peaceably  in  her  dominions  and  supplied  them  secretly 
with  money.* 

The  last  act  of  this  farce  was  a  letter  to  Queen  Mary,  in 
which  the  accomplished  hypocrite  says,  "I  wish  that  your 
own  ears  could  have  been  my  judges,  to  hear  the  honor 
and  affection  which  I  manifested  towards  you  to  the  con- 
futation of  the  report  that  I  defend  your  bad  subjects 
against  you.  That  were  an  act  that  must  always  be  far 
from  my  heart,  being  too  great  an  ignominy  for  a  princess 
to  suffer,  let  alone  to  do.  Were  I  guilty,  I  would  wish  to 
be  excluded  from  the  rank  of  princesses  as  unworthy  to 
hold  a  place  there."f 

Meanwhile,  when  these  rebels  were  at  their  zenith, 
Bothwell  again  appeared  to  sue  for  grace,  and  this  time  he 
received  it.  Once  more  he  was  appointed  Lord  Lieutenant 
of  the  Borders  and  took  bis  place  again  at  the  Scottish 

•  Robertson,  188.  t  Labanofl;  viL,  59. 


l-tO       Mart,  Queen  of  Scots. 

court.  In  February  155C  his  royal  mistress  honored  him 
by  tie  interest  she  took  in  his  marriage,  and  by  the 
festivities  she  ordered  at  Holy  rood  in  honor  of  that  event. 
His  bride  was  the  lady  Jane  Gordon,  sister  of  the  Earl  of 
lluntley  and  of  course  a  Catholic. 

But  the  five  days'  feasting,  as  well  as  the  jousts  and 
tournaments  which  were  held  in  honor  of  this  union,  were 
made  use  of  by  the  enemies  of  Mary  to  prove  an  undue 
aSection  for  the  boorish,  one-eyed  soldier. 

A  queer  proof  of  woman's  love  that,  to  further  the 
indissoluble  union  of  its  object  with  another  person  !  But 
Bothwell,  coarse,  brutal,  unscrupulous,  unprincipled, 
merciless,  reckless  daredevil  as  he  was,  had  done  good 
service  to  Queen  Mary.  He  had  almost  destroyed  the 
border  banditti  and  had  reduced  that  portion  of  the  realm 
to  something  like  propriety.  And  whatever  his  guilt  may 
have  been,  now  or  afterwards,  at  least  he  never  was  a 
traitor. 

Free  &om  one  damning  guilt  at  least 

Hjs  soul  bad  ever  been, 
He  did  not  sell  his  country^s  rights, 

Nor  fawn  on  England's  queen  !♦ 

This  year  she  writes  to  Pope  Pius  V.,  on  his  elevation  to 
the  chair  of  St.  Peter,  begging  his  prayers  and  constant 
remembrance,  professing  her  absolute  devotion  to  hei 
religion,  and  while  reciting  some  of  the  many  persecu- 

•  Aytonn's  BotbweQ. 


Murder  of  David  R^cio.  141 


tions  under  which  she  suffc^'ed,  declaring  once  her  love 
for  the  church  a^d  her  perfect  willingness  to  die  in  its 
defence. 

How  soon  this  might  be  necessary  can  be  guessed  Lt 
from  the  spirit  manifested  by  the  Congregation.  In  the 
general  assembly  of  that  body,  a  month  before  her  mar- 
riage, they  complained  bitterly  that  the  Reformation  had 
received  a  check  by  her  arrival  in  Scotland ;  they 
demanded  the  total  suppression  of  the  Catholic  worship 
throughout  the  kingdom,  even  in  her  own  chapel ;  they 
required  that  toleration  should  cease,  that  the  new  religion, 
and  it  only  should  be  absolutely  established  and  finally, 
that  she  herself,  renouncing  her  idolatrous  errors,  should 
publicly  embrace  it.* 

But  Mary  only  answered  that  her  conscience  would 
reproach  her  forever  should  she  take  such  a  step,  and  that 
even  her  interest  forbade  it,  since  it  would  alienate  the 
friendship  of  the  continental  sovereigns. 

Poor  Queen  Mary,  draw  round  thee  what  warmth  is  in 
thy  creed,  what  light  in  thy  devotion,  what  cheerfulness 
in  thy  trust  in  God,  for  the  sun  is  going  down. 

Once  that  loving  heart  of  hers  had  been  given  to  Henry 
Darnley,  she  yielded  to  her  womanly  instincts  and  thought 
of  him  only.  For  him  honors  were  created  ;  an  him  love 
was  lavished ;  her  hopes  were  in  him ;  her  ambition  foi 
him,  her  trust  reposed  on  him.    And  ho  was  as  unworthy 

•  Robertson,  1S9. 


142 


Mary,  Queen  of  Soots 


of  all  tbis  as  if  h<3  had  been  carefully  educated  to  that 
particular  end  and  aim.  Take  his  character  from  histo- 
rians  upon  both  sides. 

"  Of  a  weak  understanding  and  without  experience,  con- 
ceited at  the  same  time  of  his  own  abilities  and  ascribing  his 
extraordinary  success  to  his  distinguished  merit,  all  tho 
queen's  favor  made  no  impression  on  such  a  temper.  All 
her  gentleness  could  not  bridle  his  imperious  and  ungovern 
able  spirit  All  her  attention  to  place  a'bout  him  persons 
capable  of  directing  his  conduct,  could  not  preserve  him 
from  rash  and  imprudent  actions.* 

"  He  was  adicted  to  great  intemperance  in  his  pleasures ; 
was  passionately  fond  of  his  hounds  and  hawks,  grossly 
licentious  and  much  given  to  drinking.f  Nor  was  it  pos- 
sible to  induce  him  to  attend  to  the  regular  routine  of 
business,  indispensably  connected  with  the  regal  oflBce 
Like  Robert  the  Unready,  he  was  always  out  of  the  way 
when  any  matter  of  importance  required  his  presence  and 
attention."! 

"  His  words,"  says  Randolph,  "  to  all  men  against  whom 
he  conceiveth  any  displeasure,  how  unjust  soever  it  is,  be 
BO  proud  and  spiteful,  that  rather  he  seemeth  a  monarch  of 
the  wond,  than  he,  whom  not  long  since,  we  have  seen  and 
known  as  the  Lord  Darnley.  He  looketh  now  for  rever- 
ence to  be  given  him,  and  some  there  be  that  thint 
him  little  worthy  of  it."§ 

•BobeitBon,!^     t  Bell,  1329.     ^  Strickland,  It.  900.      f  Ibid.  It. 


Murder  of  David  Riccio,  14^ 


His  ingratitude  for  the  dignity  which  Mar}^  had  already 
fonferred  on  him  was  h'mitless  and  he  never  ceased  to 
importune  her  for  the  crown  matrimonial,  a  gift  that  lay 
not  in  her  power  to  bestow.  When  she  sent  for  him  to 
tell  him  how  Elizabeth  had  rebuked  the  rebels,  he  came  at 
an  hour  before  midnight  and  left  her  again  at  seven  in  the 
morning.  No  entreaties  of  hers  could  win  his  attention  to 
business,  yet  he  carped  and  cavilled  at  every  act  that  she 
performed  without  him.  He  early  acquired  Murray's 
enmity  and  soon  added  to  it  the  hatred  of  the  Harailtons 
and  of  Both  well. 

Yet  to  this  petulant,  unworthy,  dissipated  youth  she  had 
given  the  priceless  gift  of  her  love.  "  All  honor,"  writes 
Randolph  shortly  after  the  marriage : — *'A11  honor  that 
may  be  attributed  unto  any  man  by  his  wife,  he  hath  it 
wholly  and  fully.  All  praise  that  may  be  spoken  of  him, 
he  lacketh  it  not  from  herself.  All  dignities  that  she  can 
indue  him  with,  are  already  given  and  granted.  No  man 
pleaseth  her  that  contenteth  not  him  and  what  may  I 
6ay  more.  She  hath  given  over  to  him  her  whole  will  to 
be  ruled  and  guided  as  himself  best  liketh."* 

This  manner  of  conducting  himself  was  not  the  best 
calculated  to  retain  him  the  love  of  his  ruyal  spouse. 
Piece  by  piece,  cru'nbled  away  the  fabric  of  her  respect 
for  him.  Once  at  a  civic  banquet,  he  got  wretchedly 
dnjnk,  and  spoke  tc  her  so  brutally  tha^  she  burst  inic 

•Strickland,  Iv.m 


14:4  M  A  K  Y  ,     Q  U  K  E  N     OF     S  C  O  T  8  . 

tears  and  left  the  table.  Yet  still  she  loved  him  ;  he  was 
lie  father  of  her  unborn  child  and  that  was  still  a  link 
!>etween  them.    That  too  he  did  Jiis  best  to  break. 

Not  satisfied  with  insulting  the  great  nobles,  he  must 
leeds  quarrel  also  with  poor  Riccio  whom  he  had  so 
greatly  favored  and  employed.  The  secretary  reluked  his 
follies  and  that  set  his  petulant  pride  on  fire.  Be  refused 
to  accompany  Darnley  to  houses  of  ill-repute,  ^i:  to  join 
in  his  drunken  revels.*  He  had  refused  to  assist  in  the 
contemplated  ruin  of  the  Hamiltons;  nay,  had  advised 
Mary  to  pardon  them.  But  more  than  this  the  poor,  faith- 
ful Italian  had  done,  "he  bad  not  only  refused  to  become 
a  party  to,  but  had  even  revealed  to  the  queen,  a  certain 
conspiracy  that  had  been  concluded  on  between  Darnley 
and  the  rebels^  by  which  it  was  resolved  to  shut  up  her 
Majesty  in  a  castle,  under  good  and  sure  guard,  tha*. 
Darnley  might  gain  for  himself  all  authority,  and  the, 
entire  government  of  the  kingdom.  He  had  overheard 
the  deliberations  of  the  conspirators."! 

Now  this  man  David  Riccio  was  a  dan  onerous  man,  for 
he  was  devotedly  faithful  to  his  royal  mistress.  The  traitoi 
lOrds,  those  most  unworthy  gentlemen,  looked  for  a  fitting 
tool  and  found  it  in  Henry  Darnley  that  most  unworthy 
consort-king.  He  was  easily  led  into  any  scheme  that 
seemed  to  promise  gratification  to  his  foolish  ambition. 

So  then  the  plot  of  the  9th  of  March  was  arranged, 

•  gtrickUnd,  It.  m  t  BeH,  L  m 


MuKDER  OF  David  Riccio.  14:^ 


Qaeen  Mary  then  being  in  the  seventh  month  of  hei 
pregnancy. 

The  plot  is  usually  known  in  history  as  Morton's  Fbt. 
James  Douglas,  Earl  of  Morton,  being  a  prominent  mover 
in  it.  Its  head  was  the  Queen^s  brother,  the  pious  and 
crafty  Earl  of  Murray,  who  never  lost  sight  of  the  one  dar- 
ling  object  of  his  ambition,  the  throne  of  Scotland.  To 
win  this  Darnlev  must  be  removed  and  the  Queen  seized 
and  dealt  with  as  circumstances  might  require.  But  it 
was  a  difficult  matter  to  do  this  while  the  keen,  little, 
devoted  Italian  was  about  the  court.  He  must  be 
removed,  Darnley,  poor  imbecile,  aiding  therein.  So 
that  prince,  already,  as  we  have  seen,  evil  disposed  to- 
wards David  Riccio,  was  easily  induc/ed  to  fall  in  with  the 
scheme  of  the  conspirators.  They  persuaded  him  that 
their  object  was  to  set  him,  supreme,  upon  the  throne 
and  give  him  actual  power  and  dominion  over  the^'king- 
dom. 

Accordingly,  Archibald  Earl  of  Argyle,  James  Earl  of 
Murray,  Alexander  Earl  of  Glencairn,  Andrew  Earl  of 
Rothes,  Robert,  Lord  Boyd,  Andrew,  Lord  Ochiltree 
and  their  complices,"  gave  a  written  bond  to  the  king, 
pledging  themselves  to  his  service ;  promising  their 
parliarmentary  influence  to  procure  for  him  the  crown 
matrimonial  and  the  kingdom  if  Mary  should  die  without 
children. 

The  Earl  of  Bedford  or  Randolph  writes   'If  per' 

% 


146       Maky,  Queen  of  Scots. 


iuasionx  to  cause  the  queen  to  yield  in  these  matters  do 
no  good  they  propose  to  proceed  we  kiioio  not  in  wJuii 
sorty* 

The  first  step  was  the  assassination  of  Riccio.  On  the 
evening  of  the  9th  of  March,  while  Queen  Mary  was  sup. 
ping  with  the  king,  the  countess  of  Argyle  and  others 
Mort(  %  xjord  Ruthven  and  Lord  Lindsay,  with  five  nun 
dred  m'^,  marched  to  Holyrood  House  and  easily  made 
them^/fes  masters  of  the  palace.  The  leaders  then  forced 
tbei'  w^ay  into  the  very  presence  of  the  Queen,  demanding 
her  mfortunate  secretary.  She  ordered  them  indignantly 
.eave  the  chamber,  and  poor  Riccio,  springing  up.  fled 
♦>vhind  her  for  shelter.  But  now,  Morton,  with  eighty  men 
burst  into  the  apartment,  and  George  Douglas,  springing 
tA)wards  Riccic,  struck  at  him  with  his  dagger.  Mary 
heroically  interposed  her  person  between  them,  but  the 
brutal  Douglas  struck  again  fiercely  over  her  shoulder  till 
the  hot  blood  spirted  out  upon  her  garments  and  the  knife 
was  left  sticking  in  the  wound.  Then  as  the  poor  victim 
elung  to  her  robes,  crying  in  his  agony,  "  Save  my  life, 
madam !  Save  my  life  for  God's  dear  sake,"  they  dragged 
him  towards  the  door. 

The  queen  struggled  bravely  to  defend  him  but  in  vain 
Andrew  Ker  of  Faudonside,  pressed  a  cocked  pistol 
against  her  side  until  she  felt  the  cold  iron  through  hei 
dress. 

•  Aytean't  Botbw«IL— Nol^ 


Murder  of  Datid  Ricoio.  lii 

Fire !"  she  said,  fearlessly,  "  if  vou  resnect  not  thi 
royal  infant  in  my  womb 

But  Darnley  knocked  the  pistol  aside.* 

Then  Patrick  Bellenden  drove  his  poinard  at  her  bosona 
but  an  English  page,  Anthony  Standen,  parried  the  blow 
with  a  torch  that  he  was  holding.  And  then  the  coward 
Darnley  seized  and  held  her,  while  the  horrid  work  of 
murder  went  on  at  the  threshold  of  the  chamber. 

Out  of  fifty-six  dagger  wounds  poor  Riccio  poured  hia 
blood  Out  on  the  floor,  while  his  royal  mistress,  writhing 
m  the  arms  of  her  caitiff  husband,  filled  the  whole  palace 
with  her  shrieks  of  anguish.  And  above  even  the  groans 
of  the  butchered  victim  rose  her  cry,  "  Alas !  poor  David  ! 
My  good  and  faithful  servant,  may  the  Lord  have  mercy 
on  your  soul !" 

The  murderers  in  their  blind  fury  stabbed  each  other, 
-and  when  the  deed  was  done  and  the  poor  secretary  lay  a 
mangled  corpse,  Douglas  snatched  Darnley 's  dagger  from 
nis  side  and  plunged  it  into  the  senseless  but  still  palpitat- 
ing clay. 

"This  is  the  blow  of  the  king,^  he  said,  and  left  the 
jewelled  weapon  sticking  in  the  wound. 

The  body  was  then  dragged  away  and  the  door  locked 
by  the  retiring  assassins.    Then  the  queen's  wrath  awoke. 

"  Traitor  and  son  of  a  traitor she  exclaimed  turnino-  her 

♦  This  fellow  Ker  >?aa  never  pardoned  by  Mary,  but  lived  in  «xile  until  alio 
her  teU    He  then  returned  to  Scotland  and  married  the  widow  oj  John  Knox  I 


Mary,  Qfeen  of  Soots. 


flashing  eyes  upoc  her  husband.  "  Is  this  the  recompense 
thou  givest  to  her  who  hath  covered  thee  with  benefits  and 
raised  thee  to  honors  so  great !" 

Then  overpowered  by  the  horror  and  desolation  of  hei 
situation,  the  poor  lady  fell  back  and  swooned  away. 

When  she  recovered  it  was  to  see  Ruihven  and  hii 
mates,  smeared  with  blood,  burst  again  into  the  room, 
He  threw  himself,  helmed  and  in  armor  as  he  was,  in  a 
chair,  and  seizing  a  goblet  of  wine  quaffed  it  to  the  bottom  • 
rebuked  his  qu-een  for  her  religion,  exulted  in  the  foul  deed 
just  committed  and  then  staggered  from  her  presence. 
Not  however  until  he  heard  what  seldom  came  from  Mary 
8tuart^s  lips,  a  solemn  imprecation. 

"  I  trust,"  she  said  "  that  God,  who  beholdeth  this  from 
the  high  heavens,  will  avenge  my  wrongs,  and  move  that 
which  shall  be  born  of  me,  to  root  out  you  and  your 
treacherous  posterity."  Thank  heaven!  that  prayer  was 
heard  and  granted.* 

With  unwillingness  I  record  that  George  Buchannan 
oonopolizes .the  infamy  of  suggesting  that  Mary's  affection 
for  hei  secretary  was  not  that  of  a  queen  for  a  faithful 
lorvant,  but  that  of  an  abandoned  woman  for  her  lover. 

And  this  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots !     Not  Knox,  not 

*  The  details  of  the  butchery  as  ^ven  above  are  from  Tytler  ii.  4  ChalraeraL 
I  124.  Robertson  146,  and  chiefly  Mary's  own  letters,  those  of  the  correspond* 
ent  of  Cosmo  Duke  of  Tuscany  and  these  of  the  French  ambaasador  de  FoL^ 
Ubanoflf,  1.,  342 :  vii  68,  86.   Mra.  Strickland,  iv.  250,  266. 


Murder  of  David  Riocio.  149 


IWMjdolph  were  bad  enough  for  this.  To  the  elegant 
versifier  of  the  Psalms  of  David,  to  him  only  and 
exclusively  belongs  the  unutterable  baseness  of  the  concep- 
tion and  the  loathesome  paternity  of  the  filthy  falsehood.* 

♦  Everything  favors  the  conclusion  that  Elizabeth  who  had  alreaiiy  male  turn 
of  Buchannan's  venal  pen,  bought  him  also  to  perforin  this  vileness.  Indeed 
the  correspondent  of  Cosmo  expressly  charges  her  with  the  fabrication  of  the 
icandal  "LaRegina  d'Inghilterra,  quale  era  stata  causa  del  tutto,\ntendendola 
pace  fra  il  Re  et  Regina  di  Scotia,  s'attristo  molto,  et  fece  scrivere  per  U 
Buo  eecretario  Cecille,  per  tutto  il  regno,  che  la  causa  di  tutto  il  suddetto  «n 
perche  II  R«  haveva  trovato  il  detto  Ricciolo  a  dormire  con  la  Kegina,^^'^ 
Labanoft  t?*  62, 


Chapter  XIV. 

Plots  and  Pardons 
1566. 

MouRXVi  LLY  did  the  poor  queen  reproach  her  unhappy 
husband  for  his  share  in  the  frightful  outrage  just 
recorded ;  and  he,  moved  by  her  tears  and  more  by  his  own 
danger,  began  to  feel  some  compunction  or  at  least  fear. 
**  You  will  destroy  both  mother  and  child,"  she  said  "and 
when  you  have  done  so,  you  will  perceive,  too  late,  the 
motives  of  those  who  have  tempted  you  to  this  wickedness. 
Think  not  you  will  escape  their  Woody  hands  after  they 
have  caused  you  to  slay  what  ought  to  be  so  dear  to  you  ; 
f'>r  you  will  be  overwhelmed  in  my  ruin,  having  no  other 
nold  upon  the  realm  of  Scotland  but  what  you  derive 
from  me.'** 

She  saw  clearly  into  the  designs  of  Murray  and  his  con- 
federates and  when  necessary,  could  show  clearly  that  she 
possessed  3uch  knowledge.    It  showed  his  true  position  to 

♦  Lives  of  the  Queens  of  Scotland,  iv.  2TT. 


Plots  ald  Pardons. 


151 


the  poor  entrapped  king,  and  he  threw  himself  at  her  feet| 
begging  her  pardon,  entreating  her  to  love  him  still  and 
promising  to  be  evermore  devoted  to  her.  She  bade  him 
first  of  all  "to  endeavor  to  appease  the  wrath  of  God  hf 
penitence  and  prayer,  that  he  might  obtain  forgiveness 
where  it  was  most  requisite  to  seek  for  mercy.  As  for  her 
own  forgiveness  she  accorded  him  that  most  frankly." 

Darnley,  even  after  being  forgiven,  retained  sorrow 
enough  to  reveal  to  her  the  whole  of  the  conspiracy 
Jt  was  intended,  he  told  her,  to  behead  her  faithful 
subjects  Bothwell,  Huntley  and  Livingstone,  and  to  hang 
8ir  James  Balfour  at  her  chamber  door.  Her  own  life,  he 
added,  was  not  safe  and  it  was  proposed  even  to  drown 
Bome  of  her  loyal  female  attendants.*  Even  now  she  was  a 
prisoner  in  Holy  rood. 

The  queen  now  set  herself  to  the  contemplation  of  her 
position  with  all  the  calmness  she  could  get.  Her  first 
duty  as  a  woman  was  to  care  for  her  unborn  babe ;  as  a 
Sovereign,  to  provide  for  the  safety  of  the  future  king. 
Her  mind  was  soon  made  up.  Duty  and  interest  alike 
excused  her  in  deceiving  those  rebellious  and  treacherouj 
men,  whose  whole  career  had  been  deceit  and  who  now 
deprived  her  of  personal  liberty  and  even  menaced  her 
life. 

Accordingly  the  next  day  she  sent  for  those  lords  and  at 
their  request,  preferred  upon  their  knees,  she  accorded  thew 

^  Labftiiofl;  Tfi.  68  mq. 


152 


M  AK  Y, 


QcEEN  OF  Scots. 


her  pardon,  spoke  pleasantly  to  all  but  Ruthven,  and  asked 
as  a  favor  that  the  keys  of  her  apartments  might  be  given 
to  her  servants  as  she  had  had  no  rest  for  the  two  night 
last  past.  Her  act  of  grace  was  legally  void,  as  she  wa 
then  in  captivity,  but  she  promised,  that  on  the  morrow 
ehe  would  by  consent  of  parliament  give  them  a  lawful 
and  public  pardon.  After  some  deliberation  th«y  agreed 
to  leave  her  possession  of  her  own  apartments.  Then  tli^ 
conspirators  retired  to  the  Earl  of  Morton's  house.  None 
of  them  trusted  either  Mary  or  her  husband :  in  whom 
could  men  with  such  consciences  trust  or  confide  ?  But 
they  believed  her  incapable  of  making  any  effort,  after  two 
days  and  nights  of  such  horror  and  unrest.  They  saw  her 
as  Melville  describes  her,  "sad  and  pensive,  for  the  late 
foul  act  committed  in  her  presence,  being  thereby  in 
hazard  of  losing  the  fruit  of  her  womb.  So  many  sighs 
she  would  give  that  it  was  a  pity  to  hear  her  and  there 
were  few  to  comfort  her."*  Influenced  thus,  by  a  belief 
In  her  inability  to  act,  and  not  by  any  sentiment  of  mercy 
or  of  justice,  her  heartless  persecutors  left  her  to  one  night 
ot  repose. 

But  they  did  not  know  what  that  frail  body  couid 
support,  when  sustained  by  the  aroused  heroism  of  her 
regal  soul.  Both  she  and  the  king  retired  and  silence 
reigned  in  the  palace.  But  at  midnight  they  arose,  and 
creeping  down  a  secret  passage  to  the  cemetery  of  the 

»  TJrtie^  IL  15. 


Plots  and  Pardons. 


153 


royal  chapel,  crossed  its  sad  territory  and  found  four 
faithful  men  and  five  horses  at  the  gate,  The  men  were 
Lord  Traquair,  Sir  William  Standen,  Arthur  Erskine  her 
equerry,  and  BaKian  a  groom.  The  woman  was  Margaret 
Garwood,  the  betrothed  of  the  last  named. 

Seven  people  and  five  horses :  for  Mary  rode  behind  her 
equerry,  upon  a  pillion  ;  and  Lord  Traquair,  the  captain  of 
the  guard,  took  the  maid  Margaret.  Then  oif  through  the 
cold  March  midnight  and  the  colder  early  morning  they 
rode,  fleetly  as  possible,  as  far  as  Seton  House,  where  th« 
noble  of  that  name  had  two  hundred  armed  cavaliers 
ready  to  escort  their  queen,  whither  she  would. 

On  then,  eastward  from  the  ancient  capital  of  her 
fathers,  rode  the  fugitive  queen,  almost  ready  to  become  a 
mother,  horror  sick,  weary,  nearly  broken-hearted,  yet 
brave  and  strong  by  the  resolute  royal  soul  that  was  in  her ; 
on  to  the  bleak  sea  coast  where  turreted  and  fortified  Dun- 
bar frowned  grimly  over  the  wide  north  main.  Here  then 
at  last  she  had  temporary  safety  and  repose.* 

She  herself  cooked  a  breakfast  of  new-laid  eggs,  and 
doubtless  it  was  the  first  heartily  relished  meal  which  she 
had  eaten  for  a  long  time.  Then  she  wrote  some  letters  to 
her  uncle,  the  cardinal  of  Lorraine,  signing  herself  some- 
what bitterly,  according  to  the  Italian  authority  in  Laban- 
off",  "  vostra  Nepote  Maria,  Rejina  senza  regno.  Yarn 
niece  Mary,  a  queen  without  a  kingdom." 

♦Labanoff  vil  77. 

7* 


154       Mary,  Queen  of  Sootb. 

But  the  kingdom  was  not  yet  all  lost.  That  same  day 
Bothw;*-!  and  Huntley  appeared  at  Dunbar  with  thirteen 
hundred  men  whose  lives,  with  their  own,  they  laid  at  the 
queen's  feet.  Then  Mary  took  coura^.  She  wrote  letters 
to  the  principal  loyal  nobles  and  issued  proclamations  to 
her  feal  people  and  both  were  responded  to,  for,  in  a  very 
short  time,  she  had  at  her  disposal  an  army  of  8,000  men. 
Then  the  coward  league  of  the  conspirators  broke  up  • 
they  had  no  idea  of  fighting ;  their  courags  had  beei 
tested.  Five  hundred  of  them  had  taken  an  undefendevl 
palace,  and  only  eighty  had  killed  an  unarmed  and 
deformed  Italian. 

Glencairn,  without  waiting  for  a  safe  conduct,  flew  to 
Dunbar  and  threw  himself  on  the  mercy  of  his  sovereign. 
The  Earl  of  Rothes  followed  his  example  and  both  were 
pardoned.  But  Lord  Erskine,  governor  of  Edinburg, 
received  orders  to  clear  that  city  of  traitors  at  any  risk, 
and  they  fled,  some  to  England,  some  to  securer  parts  of 
Scotland.  John  Knox  was  of  their  number.  What  part 
he  took  in  procuri^ig  the  murder  we  do  not  exactly  know, 
but  he  himself  records  his  unqualified  approval  of  it 
**Tbat  poltroon  and  vile  knave  Davie  was  justly  punished 
on  the  9th  of  Mar-ch,  in  the  year  of  God  1565-6,  by  the 
counsel  and  hands  of  James  Douglas,  etc.,  who  all,  for 
their  just  act  and  most  worthy  of  all  irraise^  are  now 
unworthily  left  of  their  brethren  and  suffer  the  bitterness 


i*L0T8    AND  PARDoiSS. 


155 


•f  l^mishraent  and  exi'e."*  To  stab  a  defenceless  and 
deformed  man  while  he  clung  to  a  woman's  knees  foi 
ihelter ;  to  plant  their  daggers  fifty-six  times  in  his  j)ooi 
body  and  to  smear  themselves  with  his  gore,  make  a  jusl 
md  most  praiseworthy  act  in  the  estimation  of  this  minis 
ter  of  the  Gospel  of  Peace. 

The  queen  while  she  pardoned  most  of  thos^e  who  wer.' 
merely  privy  to  the  plot,  would  see  none  of  the  active  pel 
petrators  of  the  outrage.  Lennox  was  banished,  Mortoi- 
dismissed  from  the  chancellorship  and  his  estates  re-con 
fiscated  to  the  crown.  Makgill,  Maitland  of  Lethingtor 
and  Bellenden  were  dismissed,  and  the  queen  resumed  tm 
lands  and  benefices  that  she  had  formerly  best-owed  upop 
them.  But  the  crafty  hypocrite  Murray  was  again  for 
given.  His  royal  sister  could  not  forget  that  the  bame 
blood  flowed  in  their  veins,  nor  rid  herself  entirely  of  the 
great  affection  which  she  had  entertained  for  him.  How 
worthy  he  was  of  this  grace  let  his  own  letters  show.  Ta 
the  queen  he  wrote,  about  March  13th,  his  entire  repudi- 
ation of  those  who  had  committed  the  late  odious  crime, 
solemnly  pledging  himself  to  have  nothing  more  to  do 
with  them.''  On  the  27th,  he  writes  by  Randolph  to 
Cecil  in  their  favor,  "  My  Lord  of  Moray,  by  a  special  ser- 
vant sent  unto  us,  desireth  your  honor's  favor  to  these 
^*^blemen,  Morton,  Ruthven  and  the  others,  as  his  deaf 

^KxKx,  Hist.  Ret  LS8& 


156 


Maey,  Qjeen  of  Scots. 


friends  and  such  as,  for  his  sake,  hath  given  this  adveft 
ture."* 

To  Elizabeth  she  writes,  begging  her  friendship,  prorais- 
ing  to  come  and  meet  her  after  her  child  shall  be  bom 
•nd  asking  her  not  to  harbor  the  Scottish  rebels,  par- 
ticularly the  Earl  of  Morton.  She  requests  the  English 
queen  to  be  godmother  to  her  child  and  assures  her  of  her 
own  sincere  aflfection.  Finally  she  requests  her  to  send 
another  and  less  intriguing  ambassador  in  the  place  of 
Randolph  the  wily.  In  another  letter,  May  1556,  she 
conorratulates  Elizabeth  on  recoverinor  unmarked  from  an 
attack  of  small  pox,  and  describes  the  treatment  to  whicli 
she  was  subjected  when  suffering  from  the  same  malady  in 
France.f 

On  the  18th  of  March,  the  queen  accompanied  by  her 
husband  and  her  loyal  nobles,  and  at  the  head  of  an  army 
of  9000  men,  re-entered  Edinburg,  where  she  was  received 
by  the  populace  with  great  demonstration  of  affection  and 
respect.  But  they  did  not  go  to  the  palace,  making  their 
residence  instead  in  the  house  of  Lord  Howe,  which  waa 
kept  strongly  fortified  and  guarded. 

Meantime,  the  period  of  the  queen's  confinement  drew 
near,  and  on  the  19th  of  June  James  VI.  was  born. 

Darnley's  good  beadvior  was  of  very  brief  duration 
Although  forgiven  by  the  queen  for  his  share  in  the  Riccio 
conspiracy,  he  knew  perfectly  we.3  that  he  had  lost  her 

•  Lives  of  the  Queens  of  Scotland,  iv.  298.  t  Ubanoff,  vli.  S00-9SA, 


Plots  and  Pardons. 


157 


confidence,  and  this  vexed  his  puerile  petulance  exceed- 
ingly. He  violently  opposed  her  pardoning  an}  of  the 
rebels,  and  pouted  and  sulked  when  she  persisted  in  the 
gracious  act.  He  dared  even  to  say  to  her  that  he  wa« 
sorry  for  having  broken  with  the  conspirators,  and  he  set 
out  for  Stirling  Castle  to  visit  Murray  and  Argyle.  But 
the  queen  sent  a  messenger  before  him  positively  forbid- 
ding those  lords  to  hold  any  interview  with  him.  They 
dared  not  disobey  at  this  time,  and  the  king  came  back 
bootless  from  his  errand. 

Then  he  blamed  her  for  lack  of  afFectionateness,  for 
showing  a  preference  for  the  society  of  her  ladies  rathei 
than  his.  He  refused  to  do  any  business.  He  wrote  to 
the  Pope  and  several  Catholic  princes,  complaining  that 
the  queen  tolerated  Protestantism  in  her  realm,  and  finally 
declared  his  intention  to  quit  Scotland,  rising  in  privy 
council,  bidding  farewell  to  the  members  of  that  body, 
and  saying  to  the  queen,  Adieu,  madam.  You  shall  not 
ftee  my  face  for  a  long  space."* 

After  some  little  absence  in  Glasgow,  he  returned  to 
iict  as  before,  or  worse. 

Towards  the  end  of  July,  being  still  weak  and  delicate, 
her  physicians  ordered  change  of  air,  and  Mary  accepted 
an  invitation  from  the  Earl  of  Mar  to  spend  a  few  dyss  at 
his  castle  of  Alloa.  She  went  accompanied  by  the  Earl 
of  Murray  and  his  kinsman,  the  Earl  of  Mar,  the  Earl 

*  Chalmers,  L  140. 


158       Mary,  Queen  of  Soots. 

and  Ceuntess  of  Argjle,  the  privy  councillors,  her  oflScew 
of  state  and  her  usual  attendants.  As  she  went  by  sea, 
her  husband  refused  to  trust  himself  in  the  boat  with 
Murray,  and  proceeded  with  his  retinue  by  land  to  the 
same  destination. 

Her  employment  here  was  to  hold  a  privy  council,  to 
receive  the  French  Ambassador  Mauvissiere,  to  grant 
several  charters  and  to  call  the  barons  of  the  country 
and  their  followers  about  her,  to  attend  her  on  a  judici- 
ary progress.  She  was  joined  here  by  Darnley,  who 
remained  with  her.* 

In  his  journal,  long  after  prepared  for  and  presented  tf 
Elizabeth,  Murray  writes  thus  of  the  journey  to  Alloa  :— 

"July  20th,  or  thereabouts,  Queen  Mary  fled  the  king's 
company,  and  passed  by  boat  with  the  pirates  to  Alloa, 
where  the  king  coming  was  repulsed  ."f 

George  Buchannan,  in  his  libellous  "  Detection,"  writ- 
ten  from  the  dictation  of  Murray^ s  Privy  Council^\ 
says,  she  went  "  down  to  the  water  side,  at  a  place 
called  the  New  Haven,  and  while  all  marvelled  whithei 
she  went  in  such  haste,  she  suddenly  entered  into  a  ship, 
there  prepared  for  her ;  which  ship  was  provided  by 
William  Blacater,  Edward  Blacater,  Leonard  Robertson, 
and  Thomas  Dickson ;  BothwelVs  servants  and  famous 
robbers  and   pyrates.    With   this  tvain   of  thieves,  as 

•  Chalmers,  1 187.  Strickland,  iv.  884.         L  SBB. 
t  Strickland,  ir.  921  %  Ibid.  74. 


Plots  and  Parpon^. 


159 


hon6Bt  men  wondering  at  it,  she  betook  herself  to  sea. 
taking  not  any  one  with  her,  no,  not  one  of  her  gentle- 
men nor  necey^ary  attejidants,  for  common  honesty.'' 
Of  her  behavioi  at  Alloa.  "  In  all  her  words  and  doings 
she  never  kept  any  regard,  I  will  not  say  of  qneen-like 
Majesty,  but  of  matron-like  modesty."  And  again,  "As 
for  herself,  she  pastimed  there  certain  d^ys,  if  not  in 
princely  magnificence,  yet  in  more  than  princely  or  rather 
unprincely  licentiousness,^''^ 

This  elegant  extract  is  not  worthy  of  comment,  but  ia 
given  merely  to  show  the  animus  of  the  writer,  and  the 
graces  of  his  style.  We  shall  cul'  »ertain  other  beauties 
from  the  same  source  shortly. 

One  very  unfortunate  and  foolish  act  Queen  Mary  did 
indeed  commit  at  Alloa.  At  the  entreaty  of  Murray, 
(who  was  not  there  according  to  himself  and  Buchannan), 
at  his  earnest  prayer  and  urgency,  she  pardoned  that  arch- 
fox  and  traitor  Maitlaid,  of  Lethington.  It  will  be 
remembered  that  after  the  murder  of  Riccio,  she  haa 
taken  from  him  the  lands  of  Haddington  and  given  them 
to  Bothwell.  AniC  now,  under  the  influence  of  Murray, 
he  was  persuaded  again  to  bestow  tLem  on  Maitland,  and 
deprive  Bothwell  of  them,  who  at  le.vt  was  faithful  to  her, 
whatsoever  his  faults  may  have  been.    Hs  was  threatened 

^Bnchannan^s  Detection,  p.  6.   He  !8  coarser  to  th«  fame  eflbct  tn  hif 

Nation, 


160 


Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 


witlvissassination  by  Murray,  and  he  knew  tba-t  dark  maii, 
well  enough  to  believe  that  he  had  both  power  and  wil] 
to  fulfil  the  threat.  Yet  at  this  time  Buchannan  accuses 
her  of  loving  the  man  whose  spoliation  she  permits  ia 
favor  of  her  deadliest  enemy. 

This  quarrel  was  however  finally  arranged  by  the 
queen  herself,  who  managed  to  reconcile  Bothwell  and 
Maitland  and  restored  the  latter  to  secretary  of  state.  Sc 
the  spider  got  into  his  web  again,  and  in  it  he  caught 
rough  Bothwell  and  gentle  Queen  Mary  and  destroyed 
them  both. 

The  borderers  had  again  become  turbulent,  and  Bott 
well,  as  lord-lieutenant  of  the  borders,  was  ordered  by  th<i 
queen  to  quiet  them.  An  adven>ture  of  his  will  be  inte- 
resting as  a  sketch  of  border  life  at  the  time;  and  for  its 
after  consequences,  so  precious  to  the  enemies  of  the  queen. 

They  w^ere  terrible  fellows  those  Armstrongs,  Elliotts, 
Johnstons  and  others. 

They  spiilzie  (spoil)  poor  men  of  their  packs, 
They  leave  them  nought  on  bed  nor  backs, 

Both  hen  and  cock 

With  reel  and  rock, 

The  laird's  jock 
All  with  him  taks. 

They  leave  not  spindle,  spoon  nor  spit ; 
Bed,  bolster,  blanket,  shirt  nor  sheet; 
John  of  the  Park 


Plots  and  Pardons.  I6x 


Rypes  chest  and  ark 
For  all  such  wark 
He  is  right  meet.* 

John  of  the  Park  was  chief  of  a  powerful  branch  of  the 
Elliotts,  and  the  most  troublesome  of  aU  the  reivers  of  the 
day.  He  was  recklessly  brave,  a  man  of  powerful  frame 
and  well  skilled  in  arms.  Him  on  the  l7th  of  October  did 
Bothwell  meet  on  the  braes  of  Liddesdale,  fought  him, 
hand  to  hand  in  single  combat,  wounded,  overcame  ani 
admitted  hira  to  quarter. 

After  his  surrender,  Elliott  asked  Bothwell, 

"  Will  ye  save  my  life  ?" 

"If  an  assize  will  make  you  clean,"  was  the  answer, 
shall  be  heartily  content;  but  it  behoves  you  to  pass  to 
the  queen's  grace." 

But  this  did  not  suit  the  bold  freebooter,  who  accord 
iogly  jumped  from  his  horse  and  started  to  run.  Both- 
well  shot  him  with  a  pistol  and  then  dismounted  to  take 
him,  but  slipped  in  some  mire  and  fell.  Elliott  threw  him- 
self upon  him,  and  stabbed  him  in  the  head,  body  and  hand, 
to  which  the  earl  retoi'ted  with  two  home  thru-sts  in  tht 
chest.  Then  Elliott  rose  and  fled,  but  Bothwell  had  hit 
well  and  when  the  reiver  had  gone  about  a  mile  he  fell 
dead.  Bothwell  lay  weltering  in  his  blood,  till  his  ser- 
vants fcund  him  and  carried  him,  half  dead,  to  Hermitage 


•  Aytoon^s  Bothwell— ^Tote. 


162       Mart,  Queen  of  Scots. 

Castle.  The  next  day  his  death  was  reported  in  Edin- 
huvg. 

We  have  mentioned  that  when  going  to  Alloa,  th« 
queen  proposed  to  make  a  judiciary  progress,  and  th6 
*  nobles,  gentlemen  and  all  substantial  persons,"  were 
ordered  to  meet  her  at  Jedburg  on  the  13th  of  August, 
Harvest  intervening,  the  order  was  changed  to  September 
24th,  at  Melrose.  Accordingly,  accompanied  by  her 
ministers  of  state,  her  privy  council,  her  great  law  officers, 
ber  nobles  and  her  whole  court,  she  set  out  for  Melrose  in 
etately  pomp.  Her  petulant  boy  husband  was  in  the  sulka 
again  and  refused  to  accompany  her.  She  was  met  by  the 
gentry  of  the  shire  at  Melrose,  and  thence  she  proceeded 
to  Jedburg. 

Here  siie  presided  for  six  successive  days  over  the  assize 
court,  held  two  privy  councils  and  attended  to  the  multi- 
farious business  consequent  on  a  great  court  meeting. 
This  occupied  her  until  the  16th,  when,  accompanied  by 
Murray,  Maitland  and  the  rest  of  her  cabinet,  she  visited 
Bothweh  at  Hermitage  Castle,  and  in  presence  of  those 
lords,  thanked  him  for  his  good  service,  and  condoled  with 
him  on  his  precarious  position.  She  then  gave  an  houf 
or  two  to  the  signing  and  execution  of  papers  and  returned 
,  with  her  suite  to  Jedburg.* 

On  the  way  back,  her  palfrey  floundered  into  a  mor 


•  Strickland,  v.  la   BelL  I  «f ' 


Plots  and  Pardons.  163 

sunk  to  the  saddle  girth  and  was  rescued  with  his  pre- 
cious burden  after  much  difficulty. 

Worse  mire  than  that  we  must  go  through  now,  to  wit, 
Master  George  Buchan nan's  version  of  the  visit.  *  *  When 
news  hereof  (Both well's  wound)  was  brought  to  Borth- 
wick  to  the  queen,  she  flingeth  away  in  haste,  like  a  mad- 
woman, by  great  journeys  in  post,  in  the  sharp  time  of 
winter,  first  to  Melrose  and  then  to  Jedworth.  There, 
though  she  heard  sure  news  of  his  life,  yet  her  affection, 
impatient  of  delay,  could  not  temper  itself,  but  needs 
she  must  bewray  her  outragious  lust,  and  in  an  incon- 
venient time  of  the  year,  despising  all  discommodities 
of  the  way  and  weather,  and  all  danger  of  thieves,  she 
betook  herself  headlong  to  her  journey,  with  such  a  com- 
pany as  no  man  of  any  honest  degree  would  have  adven- 
tured his  life  and  goods  among  them."* 

One  truth.  Master  Buchannan,  you  have  accidently  told. 
Her  company"  was  indeed  bad,  Murray  and  Lethington 
and  their  mates.  But  for  the  rest  !  Heaven  help  us  ! 
You  shoot  wide  of  the  mark.  For,  as  she  was  at  Borthwick 
on  the  ninth,  and  not  until  six  days  of  court  holding  had 
elapsed  did  she  visit  the  Hermitage  on  the  16th.  As 
for  her  love,  she  gave  a  queer  proof  of  it  by  riding  back 
in  a  couple  of  hours  to  Jedburg  after  a  long  ride  from 
Borthwick  as  you  w^ill  have  it.  Your  sharp  time  of 
*  Bachanuan'B  Detection,  10. 


164       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

winter**  was  the  pleasant  month  of  October.  But  foi 
the  company  she  travelled  in,  you  have  truth  on  yom 
•ice. 

Now,  the  elegant  extract  given  above  is  nothing  to  tha 
which  soon  must  follow. 


Chapter 


XV 


Suffering  and  Love. 
IJ66-7. 

The  next  day  Mary  was  struck  down  by  fever,  a  malig- 
nant intermittent  typhus.  Whether  caused  by  fatigue  01 
by  annoyance  at  the  wretched  conduct  of  her  (jonsort,  is  not 
known,  but,  at  any  rate,  she  was  very  ill.  Violent  fits  of 
vomiting  and  deadly  faintings  racked  her  delicate  frame, 
and  then  fever  and  delirium  supervened,  relieved  by  occa- 
sional intervals  of  reason.  She  sank  rapidly  and  at  length, 
convinced  that  her  last  hour  had  come,  she  calmly  pre- 
pared for  death.  Leslie,  Bishop  of  Ross  was  with  her  and 
has  left  a  record  of  this  illness.  She  begged  the  lords  to 
pray  for  her,  repeated  the  creed  in  Latin  and  English,  pro-' 
fessed  her  undving  and  devoted  love  for  the  church  for 
v.l.icb  she  had  so  much  suffered,  and  expressed  her  willing- 
ness to  depart. 

A  few  hours,  she  said,  "would  remove  her  from  this 


16d 


Mart,   Queen  of  Scots. 


world  to  a  hotter :  and  although  she  had  been  fond  of  life, 
she  found  it  no  hard  matter  to  resign  herself  to  dcath^ 
acknowledging  God  as  the  Lord  of  all  things,  the  Supreme 
Creator  and  herself  the  work  of  His  hands  She  desired 
His  will  to  be  accomplished  in  h«r,  whether  it  pleased  Hia 
Divine  Majesty  to  suffer  her  to  remain  longer  in  this  world 
for  the  better  governing  of  the  people  He  had  committed 
to  her  charcre  or  to  take  her  to  Himself." 

She  forgave  all  who  had  offended  her;  especially  her 
husband,  and  the  banished  nobles ;  she  craved  forgiveness 
of  all  whom  she  had  aggrieved.  She  recommended  hei 
sou  to  the  care  of  Murray,  of  Elizabeth  and  of  Charles  of 
France.  She  entreated  her  brother  and  others  to  be  tole- 
rant to  the  Catholics,  and  expressed  her  rejoicing  that  she 
had  never  persecuted  one  of  her  subjects  on  the  score  of 
religion.  On  the  25th,  she  became  cold  and  rigid,  hei 
eyes  closed,  her  form  straightened  out  and  her  pulse  and 
respiration  were  unperceptible.  All  despaired  of  her,  but 
her  physician  Nawe,  who  hoping  against  hope,  continued 
to  use  violent  fiictions  and  at  length  succeeded  in  restoring 
her  to  life.  This  was  the  crisis  of  the  fever  and  she  now 
began  to  grow  better.  Her  death  meantime  had  been 
reported  in  Edinburg.  During  the  whole  of  her  illness 
bei  wortnles?  husband  never  came  near  her  at  all.  Even 
Knox  was  softened  by  this  terrible  alfliction  and  wrote  of 
her  gently  and  kindly. 

Buchannan  says  that  Bothwell  had  followed  her  to  Jed* 


Suffering  and  Love.  16? 

burg  and  remained  with  her  some  days,  and  he  aUributaa 
her  disease  to  a  cause  too  loathsomely  infamous  to  tran- 
ftoribe.* 

On  the  ninth  of  November  she  was  enabled  to  resume 
her  royal  progress.  She  went,  this  time,  southward  to  the 
Tweed,  and  with  so  large  a  retinue,  that  Sir  John  Foster, 
the  English  captain  of  Berwick,  placed  it  in  a  condition  of 
defence ;  and  on  going  out  to  meet  the  Scottish  monarch, 
caused  the  gates  to  be  locked  behind  him.  Being  soon 
assured  however  of  her  paciSc  intentions,  he  received  her 
with  proper  honors,  conducted  her  to  Halidon  Hill,  from 
which  she  could  obtain  a  fine  view  of  Berwick,  and 
ordered  a  royal  salute  to  be  fired  by  that  fortress.  She 
received  a  severe  injury  here  from  Sir  John's  horse,  w^hich 
reared  while  near  her,  and  in  coming  down,  struck  her 
just  above  the  knee.  She  bore  the  pain  with  her  usual 
fortitude,  although  it  laid  her  up  at  a  castle  of  Lord 
Home's  for  two  days.  Then  turning  homeward  again,  she 
came  on  the  20th  to  Craigmillar. 

Here  occurred  one  of  the  most  important  facts  in  the  life 
of  the  Queen  of  Scotland,  and  one  which  goes  far  to  prov<» 
the  falsity  of  .  the  accusations  soon  after  made  against  her. 
Her  husband's  conduct  kept  her  in  a  continual  state  of  mel- 
ancholy and  she,  poor  soul,  had  none  with  whom  she  could 
advise  or  in  whom  she  could  trust.  Her  ministers  knew  it 
and  resolved  to  take  advantage  of  it.    Accordingly  Both- 

•  Dettction,  11. 


168 


Mart,  Qceek  of  Soots. 


we.l  reconciled  himself  for  a  time  with  Murray  and  Mai^ 
land,  and  they  all  agreed  to  urge  the  queen  to  divorce  hdi 
petulant  and  debauched  consort. 

The  oily-tongued  Laird  of  Lethington  was  of  course  the 
Jiief  mouth-piece,  although  the  others  were  there  to  help 
kim  when  the  matter  was  laid  before  the  queen.  But  they 
had  their  labor  alone  for  their  pains.  In  vain  did  Mait- 
land  eloquently  set  before  her  the  base  ingratitude  exhib- 
ited bv  Darnlev,  his  desertion  of  her  for  the  lowest  rovster- 
ers,  his  utter  unfitness  for  his  position  and  the  many  other 
objections  that  could  be  urged  against  him ;  the  queen 
would  have  naught  to  do  with  it.  At  first  she  would  not 
even  speak  about  it,  and  when  she  did,  it  was  only  to  say, 
first,  that  it  could  not  be  lawfully  done;  second,  that  he 
was  the  father  of  her  child,  whose  interests  might  be  preju- 
diced by  the  act :  then,  that  the  king  was  young  yet  and 
might  change  for  the  better,  and  finally  dismissed  the  mat- 
ter, saying  that  she  would  do  nothing  that  could  cast  a 
Btain  upon  her  honor  or  conscience,  and  that  she  would 
leave  the  matter  in  the  hands  of  her  God,  who  would  give 
her  relief  in  in  his  own  good  way  and  time. 

The  veteran  statesman  and  her  friend  Du  Croc-  describes 
ter  as  full  of  "deep  grief  and  sorrow:  nor  does  it  seem  pos- 
sible to  make  her  forget  the  same;  and  still  she  repeat*  the 
words  *  I  could  wish  to  be  dead.' "     As  for  Damley 
aimply  says  of  him  that,  he  is  incurably  bad."* 

•  Coalmen,  U.  178.     TyUer,  li.  66.    Bell,  U.    9.    lirtt  of  QnetfMi  Ct 


Suffering   and  Love.  1C9 


Now  why  would  she  not  consent  to  a  divorce  urged  jpon 
her  by  all  her  cabinet  ministers,  even  the  Earl  of  Huntley 
if  she  were  so  unscrupulously  wicked  as  to  love  Bothweil 
at  the  time  and  to  be  meditating  then  the  cruel  murder  of 
her  «»pouse.  No  one  believes  that  any  woman  of  twenty 
ever  preferred  the  murder  of  her  husband  to  separation 
from  him  :  much  less  a  woman  of  deep  religious  nature,  of 
uiiusal  tenderness  and  whose  whole  life  and  reign  had 
been  a  course  of  forgiveness. 

The  queen  was  now  diverted  from  her  sorrow  for 
awhile  by  the  preparation  for  the  approaching  baptism  of 
her  boy.  The  sacrament  was  to  be  celebrated  with  great 
magnificence.  Elizabeth  sent  the  Earl  of  Bedford  a? 
especial  ambassador  to  attend  it,  and  presented  Mary  with 
a  font  of  gold  worth  jBlOOO,  to  serve  for  the  occasion 
The  Countess  of  Argyle  was  her  proxy  as  godmother.  A 
supply  of  iB  12000  was  voted  for  the  occasion. 

Then  on  the  I7th  of  December,  in  the  royal  chapel  at 

Holyrood,  the  young  prince  was  baptised  by  the  name  of 

James  Charles  Charles  James:  Charles  from  his  roval 

godfather  of  France,  James  from  the  name  common  to  hii 

ancestors.    The  Archbishop  of  St  Andrew's  celebrated  the 

sacrament  and  the  bishops  of  Dunblane  and  Dunkeld  were 

present.    Banquetings  and  other  festivities  followed  the 

baptism — but  they  could  give  but  little  joy  to  the  mother ; 

for  her  husband  sulked  alone  in  his  apartments  refusing  to 

8 


lYC 


Mart,  Quekn  of  Scots. 


bfl  present  at  tlie  ceremony  or  to  take  any  part  in  thi 

rejoicings  which  succeeded  it. 

The  Countess  of  Argyle,  Queen  Elizabeth's  proxy  aa 
godmother,  was  obliged  to  do  public  penance  for  assisting 
at  a  popish  christening. 

Soon  after,  the  king,  still  in  his  boyish  petulance  went  off 
to  Glasgow  to  his  father,  where  he  was  attacked  with 
virulent  small  pox.  Buchannan  says  that  his  illness  was 
occasioned  by  poison  administered  hy  the  queen  who  would 
not  suffer  any  ov^  to  go  to  his  help.  "  Nor  would  she 
Butfer  so  much  as  a  physician  once  to  come  at  him."*  But 
the  Earl  of  Bedford,  Elizabeth's  ambassador,  writes  in  hia 
official  report  to  Cecil: — "The  king  is  now  at  Glasgow  with 
his  father  and  there  lieth  full  of  the  small  pockes,  to 
vrhom  the  queen  hath  sent  her  physician. "f  This  was 
jL)r.  Lusgiere,  who  hath  been  with  her  in  France  and  had 
seen  Pirne's  successful  treatment  of  her  for  ihe  same 
rjisease. 

'^Add  to  this  contemporaneous  history,"  says  Crawford, 
"the  queen  was  no  sooner  inforrred  of  his  danger  than  she 
hasted  after."  Turner  or  Barns^taple  says : — "  The  queen 
flew  to  him,  thinking  more  or  the  person  to  whom  she 
flew  than  of  the  danger  which  she  herself  incurred,"  and 
Lesly,  Bishop  of  Ross,  writes  : — "  Being  advertized  that 

«  Baohaxman,  48.   Ibi(l,16w  t  SfJriflkland,     74w   Lingard,  vL  09. 


Suffering  and  Love. 


171 


Darnley  was  repentant  and  sorrowful,  slie,  without  dela5 
thereby  to  renew,  quicken  and  refresh  his  spirits  and  to 
comfort  his  heart  to  the  araendraenl  and  repairing  of  hii 
health,  lately  by  sickness  sore  impaired,  hasted  with  such 
speed  as  she  conveniently  might  to  see  and  visit  him  i  \ 
Glasofow."* 

Lusgiere  by  his  skill  soon  broke  the  disease,  which 
the  king's  physician  Abernethy  was  treating  as  a  case  of 
poison,  and  the  patient  began  slowly  to  recover.  He 
expressed  himself  sincerely  sorry  for  his  errors,  and  Mary, 
whose  noble  woman  heart  was  an  inexhaustible  well  of 
forgiveness,  sent  loving  messages  to  him  and  assurances  of 
ber  complete  reconciliation  with  him. 

Every  point  of  her  conduct  should  here  be  carefully 
noted.  Not  only  does  she  dismiss  from  her  bosom  whai 
natural  rancor  might  be  therein,  but  sfhe  acts  as  none  but 
the  faithful  and  affectionate  spouse  can  act.  New  informa 
tion  is  laid  before  her,  on  the  testimony  of  two  person? 
named  Hiegate  and  Walcar,  that  he  and  his  father,  tie 
Earl  of  Lenox,  are  again  plotting  to  dethrone  her  and  to 
crown  her  infant.  She  calls  the  men  before  her,  examines 
them  in  council,  discovers  glaring  discrepancies  in  their 
statements  and  convicts  them  of  false  witness  before  the 
lords  who  had  employed  them. 

These  men  were  servitors  of  Beton  Archbishop  of  Glas 
gow,  and  she  at  once  writes  to  him  to  complain  of  theii 

^Bell,li24 


172       Mary,   Queen  of  Scotb. 

mischief  making,  and  adds,*  "  For  the  king,  our  hut' 
band,  God  knows  always  our  part  towards  him ;  and  hia 
behaviour  and  thankfulness  to  us  is  likewise  well  known  to 
God  and  the  world,  especially  our  own  indifferent  subject! 
•ee  it,  and  in  their  hearts  we  doubt  not  condemn  thp 

In  vain  did  Maitland  and  Murray  and  Both  well  prepare 
a  writ  to  arrest  the  king.  She  indignantly  refused  to  sign 
it  She  would  say  only,  "  As  to  the  follies  of  the  king  my 
husband,  he  is  but  young  and  may  be  reclaimed."  She 
threw  all  the  blame  of  his  misdeeds  on  his  evil  advisers 
and  expressed  her  trust  that  *'  God  would,  in  His  own 
good  time,  put  remedy  and  amend  what  was  amiss  in 
him."f 

Once  more  her  ministers  abuse  her  pity  to  procure 
the  pardon  of  the  sensual  and  treacherous  hypocrite,  the 
Eiarl  of  Morton,  and  he  is  permitted  to  return  to  Scot- 
land. 

At  this  time  too  she  gi-aces  with  her  presence  the  unfor 
tunate  nuptials  of  Mary  Fleming  with  that  inimitabU 
incarnation  of  guile,  Maitland  of  Lethington. 

On  the  13th  of  January,  Queen  Mary  left  Stirling  fo* 
Edinburg,  there  to  lodge  her  child  safely  in  Holyrood  and, 
that  accomplished,  hastened  to  Glasgow.  Much  has  been 
Baid  of  unnecessary  delay ;  but  let  the  Scottish  January 
climate  be  remembered  and  the  necessity  of  caring  for  hei 

•LabaDOfr;L  198.  t  Strickland  v.  93,  94» 


Suffering  and  Love.  173 


infant,  and  the  delicate  frame  of  Darnley,  and  her  own 
almost  mortal  and  recent  illness.  Let  this  also  he  recalled 
that  he  left  Stirling  only  on  the  24th  December,  to  spend 
fiK>me  days  with  his  father  before  his  illness,  and  that  she, 
after  holding  a  court  and  taking  the  prince  to  Eklinburg, 
was  with  him  in  Glasgow  by  the  27th  of  January.  Those 
wore  no  days  of  steamers  and  swift  space-annihilating 
trains,  but  of  tedious  journeyings  on  horseback  over  the 
rough  and  frozen  roads,  through  the  bleak  airs  and  driving 
snows  of  wintry  Scotland.  Get  your  maps  too  and  look  at 
the  relative  positions  of  Stirling  and  Ediuburg  and  Glas- 
gow. 

The  queen  was  very  anxious  to  have  her  husband  well 
lodged  and  proposed  Crai^millar  Castle,  beautifully  situated 
near  Edinburg.  But  he  refused  to  go  there,  and  she  wrote 
to  her  secretary  Maitland  to  prepare  a  pleasant  abode  for 
nim.  Holyrood  also  would  not  do.  Mary  feared  lest  her 
child  might  take  the  infection;  and  Darnley  feared  the 
nobles  whom  he  knew  for  his  foemen.  So  Maitland 
selected  the  king's  abode  just  outside  the  wall  of  E(.iin- 
burg  and  called  the  Hoube  of  Kirk  in  the  Fields. 

Knox  and  Buchannan  both  speak  of  the  attentions  which 
she  showed  her  husband,  and  charitably  attribute  them  to 
deceit.  Enough  that  she  nursed  .him  tenderly,  and  when 
well  enough  to  go,  accompanied  him  to  the  capital,  he  in 
her  own  litter  brought  for  the  purpose.  They  reached 
Edinburg  by  easy  stages  on  the  81st  of  January,  and  the 


171 


Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 


king  was  installed  in  his  apartments,  which  were  fitlred  uj 
with  royal  state*  in  the  old  Abbey  House  of  what  was 
once  St.  Mary's  Collegiate  Church  in  the  Fields;  and 
between  this  house  and  Holy  rood  the  queen  passed  her 
time  until  the  fatal  9th  of  February. 

We  must  record  two  other  points  trivial  in  themselvet 
but  very  important  in  this  period  of  the  life  of  Mary  Stuart. 
When  at  Glasfjow,  she  told  her  husband  that  she  was 
going  to  take  him  with  her,  and  that  she  had  brought  her 
litter  with  her  that  she  might  travel  more  softly,"  he 
replied  that  he  would  follow  her  any  where  so  she  would 
be  perfectly  recomiiled  to  him.  And  Mary  answered, 
"  that  h«r  coming  was  only  to  that  effect,  and  that  if  she 
had  not  been  minded  thereto,  she  had  not  come  so  far  to 
fetch  him,  and  gave  him  her  hand  thereto  and  the  faith  of 
her  body  that  she  would  love  him  as  well  as  ever.'^f 

And  one  day  at  Kirk  in  the  Fields,  as  she  suddenly 
entered  his  room,  she  found  him  writing  letters  to  his 
father.  He  gave  them  to  her  to  read,  and  she  found  them 
full  of  her  own  praises.  Then  the  wife  clasped  him  in  her 
arms  and  kissed  him  over  and  over  again ;  and  told  him  of 
her  joy,  for  that  the  shadow  had  passed  away  from 
between  their  hearts.J 

It  will  be  rememberied  that  on  Mary's  flight  from  Holy 
iood  after  the  brutal  butchery  of  Riccio,  a  servitor  name  ' 

*  For  a  particular  description  see  Strickland  y.  128, 1^ 
t  Strickland,     112.  %  Il>l<i»  v.  138L 


Suffering 


AND  Love. 


173 


BastiAA  and  one  of  her  women,  Margaret  Garwood 
attended  her.  Now  these  two  were  to  be  raairied ;  and 
Mary,  ever  grateful,  resolved  to  honor  the  ceremony  with 
her  presence  The  wedding  day  was  the  9th  of  Februprj^, 
and  the  place  was  Holyrood. 

It  was  a  joyous  day.  In  the  morning  the  ceremony 
took  place,  and  the  queen  sate  at  the  wedding  feast,  and 
promised  to  be  present  at  the  ball  and  supper.  Thence  to 
a  banquet  at  the  Bishop  of  Argyle's.  Then,  followed  by 
her  nobles,  they  to  do  homage  to,  she  to  visit  her  invalid 
husband,  to  Kirk  in  the  Fields.  She  lingered  as  long 
beside  Darnley  as  she  could  corisistently  with  her  promise 
And  when  he  still  would  have  retained  he"^  she  drew  from 
her  fair  finger  a  ring  and  placed  it  upon  his,  and  kissed 
him  with  tenderest  good-bye  and  promises  of  quick  return; 
and  then  went  her  way  back  to  the  dance  and  feast  at 
Holyrood. 

And  now,  poor  queen,  pluck  from  thy  bosom  the  festa! 
flowers,  for  none  shall  bloom  there  again  forevermore. 
Recall  the  joys  of  the  bridal  and  the  banquet,  for  the  days 
of  thy  feasting  are  over.  Nevermore  shall  thy  light  foot 
bound  in  the  dance,  nor  thy  silver  voice  ring  with 
laughter.  Nevermore  shall  thy  nobles  stand  before  thee, 
gorgeously  arrayed  and  full  of  reverent  homage.  Never- 
more shall  the  Mps  of  thy  young  husband  be  pressed  upon 
thine,  nor  thy  white  arms  encircle  him,  nor  thy  sweet 
voice  murmur  in  his  ears  low,  earnest  tenderness.  Thy 


176       Mart,  Queen  of  Scots. 

ioves,  joy,  hopes,  honors,  are  floating  oflf,  far  off  like  light 
clouds  before  the  wind,  and  when  thou  sighest,  yearning 
after  them,  "when,  when  will  ye  return?"  their  answer 
sobs  back  to  thee,  low  and  utterly  raournfal,  "  No  more, 
DO  more  forevnr,** 


Chapter  X  VI. 

St     Mary's  Church   in  the  Fields. 

February  9th,  1567. 

Just  inside  of  the  city  walls,  at  a  convenient  distance 
from  Holyrood  and  the  castle,  stood  the  House  of  Kirk  in 
the  Fields.  It  consisted  of  but  four  apartments :  on  the 
ground  floor  Queen  Mary's  room  and  a  kitchen ;  above, 
the  king's  room  and  ante-chamber,  the  sleeping  room 
being  directly  over  the  queen's.  A  winding  staircase 
allowed  communication  between  the  two  stories,  f.nd  a 
passage  was  cut  from  the  kitchen  through  the  wall  into  a 
lane— beyond  which  was  another  wall,  and  on  the 
other  side  of  this  were  extensive  gardens.  A  hal] 
ninning  from  the  western  door  to  the  staircase  divided  thj 
queen's  room  from  the  kitchen. 

Here,  as  we  have  seen  in  the  last  chapter,  Mary,  after  a 
tender  farewell,  left  her  husband  on  the  night  of  the  9th 
if  February ;  never  to  see  him  again  on  earth. 

We  must  remind  the  reader  of  the  enmity  which 

8* 


178 


Maey,   Queen  of  Scots. 


Darnley  had  created  in  the  breasts  of  most  of  the  nobles 
Hnd  how  he  had  constantly  persevered  in  augmenting  it, 
intil  it  had  become  implacable  and  inveterate.  Murray, 
Morton,  Huntley,  Bothwell,  Argyle,  Mailland  and  others^ 
hated  him  bitterly  and  had  sworn  his  destruction.  Their 
first  attempt,  made  at  a  period  of  gross  misconduct  on  his 
part  and  righteous  indignation  on  the  queen's,  was  to 
procure  her  assent  to  a  divorce  ;  but  in  this,  ris  we  know, 
they  failed  utterly. 

This  was  in  December  1566,  and  the  conspirators,  find- 
ing themselves  foiled,  retired  to  Craigmillar  Castle  where 
a  bond  of  mutual  amity  and  support  was  drawn  up  by  Sir 
James  Balfour,  and  signed  by  hiin  and  by  Huntley,  Argvle, 
Bothwell  and  Maitland.*    The  bond  was  in  this  wise : 

That  inasmuch  as  it  was  thought  expedient  and  most 
profitable  for  the  commonwealth,  by  the  whole  nobility  and 
lords  undersubscribed,  that  such  a  young  fool  and  proud 
tyrant  should  not  bear  rule  over  them ;  and  that  for  divers 
causes  therefore,  that  they  all  had  concluded  that  he  shodd 
be  put  off  by  one  way  or  other,  and  whosoever  should  take 
the  deed  in  hand  or  do  it,  they  should  defend  and  fortify  it 
as  themselves,  for  it  sfhould  be,  by  every  one  of  their  own, 
PXikoned  and  holden  done  by  themselves.'^f 

By  afterwards  signing  this  bond,  the  Earl  of  Morton, 
ihen  in  exile,  purchased  the  successful  influence  of  these 
lords,  who  it  will  be  remembered  formed  the  queen's  minia 

« licgard,  tL  GO.  t  Aytocn,  219.— JfoAc 


St.  Mary's  Chuxjoh 


179 


toy,  to  procure  his  pardon  and  recall  to  Scotland.  Both- 
well  declares  that  Murray  signed  it,  but  it  is  possible  thnt 
with  his  usual  astuteness,  he  merely,  as  he  said  of  th« 
attempted  divorce,  "  would  stand  by  and  look  through  hia 
fingerss."    Of  this  however  hereafter. 

From  this  moment  Both  well,  Balfour,  Maitland  the  crea 
ture  of  Murray,  Morton  and  the  rest  plotted  diligently  to 
uestioy  the  unfortunate  Darnley.  *  On  that  prince's  refusal 
to  go  to  Craigmillar,  Maitland  had  been  ordered  to  select 
a  residence.  He  had  chosen  Kirk  in  the  Field,  and  here  it 
was  determined,  should  the  cruel  purpose  of  the  conspira- 
tors be  carried  out.  Each  was  to  go  about  it  his  own 
way,  and  truculent  Both  well,  whose  first  idea  was  always 
brute  force>  at  once  formed  an  armed  band  and  awaited 
his  opportunity  to  kill. 

But  wilier  intellects  than  those  of  the  brutal  soldier 
were  at  work  The  cellars  of  the  bouse  were  already 
mined,*  and  probably  stored  with  powder;  the  procedure 
eventually  adopted  was  determined  upon  by  the  others, 
who  kept  Bothwell  in  ignorance  of  their  design  until  the 
ievmth  of  February, \ 

So  the  plan  once  matured,  the  execution  soon  folio wei 
Bothwell  was  chief  actor,  and  under  him  were  four  ruined 
gentlemen  and  four  nenial  servants.  The  gentlemen  weim 
khe  Laird  of  Orniston  and  his  uncle,  John  Hepburn  of  Bol- 

^  Buchaiman*8  Detection,  71.  Aytoun,  226,  2£7.  SHckland,  r.  120^  Itfl 
t  Bttickland.  v.  m 


180 


Mart,  Queen  of  Scots. 


.  ton  and  John  Haj  (yf  Talk ;  the  servants  Dalgleish,  Wil 
Km,  Powrie  and  Nicholas  Hanbert,  more  usually  called 
French  Paris.  Bothwell  had  gotten  the  latter  into  the 
queen's  service,  and  by  him  had  procured  impressions  of 
the  keys  and  caused  counterfeits  to  be  made  therefrom. 
The  house  was  now  open  to  the  assassins,  and  the  time  for 
their  dark  deed  had  arrived. 

We  know  how  Queen  Mary  was  employed  through  that 
eventful  ninth  of  February,  and  Bothwell  was  of  course 
obliged  to  attend  her,  both  at  the  Bishop  of  Argyle's  ban- 
quet and  at  the  ensuing  visit  to  her  husband.  But  he  had 
appointed  his -v/retched  .confederates  to  meet  him  at  the 
proper  hour  and  to  bring  with  them  the  necessary  powder, 

The  storv  need  not  be  told  in  all  its  circumstantial  details 
If 

here.  Enough  that  the  instruments  of  crime  arrived,  were 
treacherously  admitted  by  the  valet-de-chambre  Paris,  and 
piled  up  their  bags  of  powder  in  Queen  Mary's  room 
while  she  was  bidding  adieu  to  Darnley.  Then  all  retired 
except  Hay  and  Hepburn,  who  were  locked  into  the  room 
to  keep  watch.  Earl  Bothwell  attended  the  queen  to 
Holyrood  and  returned  to  the  ccene  of  his  crime  about 
midnight.  So  near  was  her  hour  of  leaving  to  that  of  the 
powder  bearers'  return  that  "  as  they  came  up  the  Black 
Friars  Wynd  the  queen's  grace  was  going  before  them 
with  light  torches." 

It  would  seem  that  after  the  match  was  lighted,  the 
kiatf  always  fearful  of  attempts  upon  his_iife,  had  heard  a 


St.  Mary's  Cuurch. 


noise,  snielled  the  burmng  slow  match  or  had  been 
alarmed  in  some  other  way ;  and  that  he  caurrht  up  hig 
slippers  and  his  furred  pelisse,  and  rushing  out,  with  no 
other  clothing  than  his  night  shirt,  had  gained  the  gar- 
dens. Here  however  he  was  met  by  another  group  of 
murderers,  choked,  probably  with  a  napkin  and  thrown 
under  a  tree  when  dead.  For  thus  was  he  found,  with  the 
above  articles  of  apparel  lying  beside  him,  without  a  bruisvS 
or  frci cture,  or  any  trace  of  fire  on  him  or  them,  though 
eighty  yards  from  the  house. 

But  the  fuse  had  burned  out,  the  train  was  fired,  the 
oxp!o!»?o;i  ensued  and  with  a  roar  as  of  many  thunders, 
stones,  timbers  and  massive  iron  work,  from  cellar  to 
turret  top,  hurtled  confusedly  up  to  the  lurid  sky  and  then 
fell  cliarred  and  blackened  back  on  the  shuddering  earth. 

No  powder  poured  from  bags  on  the  floor  of  the  queen's 
room,  and  fired  by  Bothwell  produced  this  awful  explosion, 
for  Paris  in  his  confession  says,  "  a  tempest  or  thunder  clap 
rose  up,  and  for  fear  thereof  I  fell  to  the  earth,  with  every 
hair  on  my  head  pricking  up  like  awls."*  I  have  been," 
said  fearless,  brutal,  Bothwell  himself,  ^'in  many  great  and 
terrible  adventures  but  never  enterprise  so  afirayed  me  aa 
this."  The  whole  skimbering  populace  of  Edinburg  was 
aroused.  The  house  "  was  in  an  instant  blown  in  the  air 
with  such  a  vehoraency,  that  of  the  whole  lodging,  walla 
tnd  other,  there  is  nothing  remaining,  no  not  a  stone 

•  Strickland,  v.  IbL 


183       Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 
• 

above  another,  but  all  carried  far  away  or  dung  in  drosi 
(smashed  into  powder)  to  the  very  ground  sione.''^* 

The  remains  of  Glen  and  Macaig,  Darnley's  grooma^ 
and  those  of  two  serving  lads  were  taken  from  the  ruiiva. 
Nelson,  another  oervant,  miraculously  escaped  alive.  But 
tho  king's  body-servant,  Taylor,  was  found,  unscorched, 
unbniised,  eighty  yards  from  the  house,  dead  by  the  side 
of  his  master. 

The  populace  thronged  towards  the  palace.  The  queen, 
alarmed  by  tbe  din,  had  just  sent  to  inquire  the  cause 
when  the  Earls  of  Argyle,  Athol,  Huntly  and  Bothioell! 
(who  had  made  good  speed  to  his  quarters  at  Holy  rood) 
with  their  ladies  and  the  Countess  of  Mar  rushed  into  her 
presence  and  proclaimed  their  fear  for  the  House  of  Kirk 
in  the  Fields.  Bothwell,  as  her  Majesty's  lieutenant,  was 
dispatched  at  once  to  learn  what  he  knew  too  well  already, 
and  not  till  after  day  break  did  he  return  to  announce  to 
his  sovereign  his  funereal  news.  *'  Some  powder,''  he 
added,  "  had  accidently  taken  fire." 

The  poor  queen  burst  into  a  passion  of  grief  and  waa 
withdrawn  to  her  chamber  by  her  ladies,  and  the  next 
morning,  after  receiving  a  full  report,  remained  in  her 
room  in  a  stupor  of  grief  and  horror  all  through  the  day. 
Then  surgeons  were  sent  to  examine  the  body,  and  that 
over,  it  was  borne  mournfully  to  Holy  rood.  She  could  do 
uothing  yet,  but  deputed  her  council  to  act  for  her.  Thejj 

•  Mai7'8  letter  to  Archbishop  Beton,  Labaajoff.  IL  & 


St.  Mary's  Church. 


183 


Murray  and  Maitland  among  them,  wrote  to  Marie  of  Medi- 
cis  a  deicription  of  the  disaster  and  added  : 

"It  may  easily  be  perceived  that  the  authors  of  this 
crinae,  intended  by  the  sa«ne  means  to  have  destroyed  the 
queen,  with  the  greater  part  of  the  nobles  who  are  at  pres- 
ent in  hei  train,  and  were  with  her  in  the  king's  chamber 
till  very  n^ar  midnight ;  and  it  was  a  very  near  chance  thai 
h«r  Majf»sty  did  not  lodge  there  herself  that  night.  But 
God  h?s  been  so  gracious  that  the  assassins  were  frustrated 
of  that  part  of  their  design  having  preserved  her  to  take 
such  vengeance  as  an  act  so  barbarous  and  inhuman 
merits,"* 

On  the  next  day  however  Mary  was  suflSciently  recov- 
ered *o  write  to  the  Archbishop  of  St.  Andrew's  the  letter 
quoted  above.  She  says  that  God  "m  His  mercy  has 
reserved  us,  as  we  trust,  to  the  end  that  we  may  take  a 
rigorous  vengeance  of  that  mischievous  deed,  which  rather 
that  it  should  remain  unpunished  we  had  rather  lose  life 
end  all."t 

She  uses  the  same  language  in  her  proclamation  of  the 
12th,  wherein  she  offers  i£2,000  and  an  annual  pension  for 
the  discovery  of  the  perpetrator,  and  free  pardon  to  any 
accomplice  who  will  reveal  it.J  Then  cayme  the  last  look 
zt  the  dead  husband,  who  had  just  exhibited  a  fixed  pur- 
pose of  making  himself  worthy  of  her,  and  to  whom  she 
tad  just  returned  her  earnest  love.    Long  and  sadly  she 

•  Strickland,     1C7.  f  Labanoff,  iL  8.  t  Bdl,  tt.  fit 


184       Maky,   Queen  of  Scots. 


gazei]  upon  him,  weepiiig  silently  but  with  abounding 
tears.  Then  a  letter  came  from  Archbishop  Beton,  warn- 
ing her  of  a  new  plot  and  urging  her  to  double  her  guards, 
80  that  she,  not  doubting  but  that  the  murderers  of  her 
husband  were  seeking  her  life  also,  removed  for  greater 
security  to  the  castle,  where  she  remained  in  a  chamber 
huns^  with  black  until  the  obsequies  of  her  husband  were 
over.  The  body  of  the  unfortunate  prince  had  been  em- 
bfilmed,  and  on  the  15th,  at  night,  by  light  of  torches,  as 
had  been  the  custom  for  Catholics  since  the  Reformation,* 
it  was  borne  to  the  royal  vault  in  the  chapel  of  Holyrood, 
and  laid  to  rest  by  the  side  of  James  the  V.  of  sweet  and 
prematurely  faded  Magdalene  of  France  and  of  the  two 
infant  brothers  of  Queen  Mary. 

Thus  I  believe,  I  have  written  down  after  faithful  and 
laborious  comparison  of  contending  authorities,  the  true 
history  of  the  murder  of  Henry  Darnley,  King  Consort  of 
Scotland.  More  minute  details  will  be  given  when  I  come 
to  examine  into  the  question  "  who  were  the  murderers  ?" 


By  this  time,  February  15,  placards  were  posted  all 
over  the  city,  accusing  various  parties  of  the  murder. 
Bothwell,  Balfour,  David  Chambers  and  others  were 
anonymously  accused  ;  but  none  stepped  forward  publicly 

♦  The  reader  will  recall  the  midnight  funeral  of  the  Earl  of  Glenallen,  i» 
l«nibed  by  Sir  Walter  Scott  in  the  Antiquary. 


St.  Mary's  Church. 


185 


to  support  the  charges.  Undoubtedly  they  proceeded  from 
the  crafty  conspirators.  The  Earl  of  Murray  had  left  hei 
and  refused  to  return  to  court  to  aid  her  with  his  councils 
so  that  the  whole  power  of  the  realm  passed  naturally  into 
the  hands  of  her  other  ministers,  Both  well,  Huntley, 
Argyle  and  Maitland.  Bothwell  was  Commander-in-Chief 
of  naval  and  land  forces ;  Argyle  Justice  General ;  Huntley 
Lord  Chancellor,  Maitland  Secretary  of  State;  all  Pro- 
testants, and  three  at  least  traitors. 

And  now  she  found  herself  so  poor  as  to  want  even 
<^nough  for  household  expenses,  and  she  urges  the  Arch- 
>:)ishop  of  St.  Andrew's  to  procure  for  her  the  loan  of 
£1600.  One  placard  accuses  her  of  complicity  in  the 
murder :  her  foreign  servants,  terrified  at  the  cruel  deaths 
of  Riccio  and  Darnley  all  forsake  her ;  she  is  a  widow,  poor 
and  alone.  Yet  even  now  if  she  would  but  forsake  her 
creed,  all  would  go  well  with  her ;  but  as  she  writes  to  the 
papal  Nuncio*  she  has  "devoted  herself  to  die  in  the 
Catholic  Faith  and  for  the  good  of  the  church  which  she 
prays  God  to  increase  and  maintain." 

On  the  21st  of  February,  1st  of  March  and  23d  of  Marcn, 
she  writes  to  the  Earl  of  Lenox  to  come  to  her  and  aid  her 
with  his  counsels  and  presence  to  pursue  and  discover  the 
slayers  of  his  son.f  Finally  on  the  24:th  of  March, 
Lenox  formally  accuses  Bothwell  of  the  murder  and  the 
12th  of  April  is  appointed  for  the  day  of  trial.    But  th^ 

<  Labanofl;  U.  2a  *  Labanof^  il.  10, 13, 17. 


1:86       Mary,  Qceen  of  Scots. 

timid,  vacillating  earl,  fearing  the  numerous  and  pow-erftil 
nobles  of  Both  well's  party,  writes  on  the  11th  to  request 
that  the  trial  might  be  postponed.  This  the  court, 
persided  over  by  Argyle,  refused  to  grant,  and  no  accuser 
ppearing,  Both  well  is  acquitted.  On  the  19  th  the  lordi 
of  Morton,  Argyle,  Huntley,  Ca&silis,  Sutherland,  Glcncairn, 
Rothes,  Caithness,  Herries,  Hume,  Boyd,  Seaton,  Sinclair 
and  many  other  nobles  and  several  bishops,  signed  a  bond, 
by  which  they  pledged  themselves  to  defend  Bothwell 
against  any  accuser  and  to  do  what  lies  in  their  power  to 
persuade  the  queen  to  marry  him. 

The  subject  will  be  renewed  in  its  proper  place.  W€ 
must  now  <>yamine  into  the  alleged  guilt  of  Queen  Mary 
•nd  others  accused. 


Chapter  XVII. 

Was  Mary  an  Accomplice  of  Bothwell  ? 

Mary  is  accused  of  murdering  her  husband  Darniey  foi 
lh<3  sake  of  raising  Bothwell,  her  paramour,  to  the  thrcme 
Eight  letters  and  twelve  sonnets,  said  to  have  been  written 
by  the  queen  and  found  in  a  casket  belonging  to  Bothwell, 
are  adduced  in  proof  of  her  guilty  connection  with  that 
nobleman,  of  her  hatred  for  Darniey  and  her  d-esire  to  get 
rid  of  him;  in  proof  that  such  connection,  hatred  and 
desire  naturally  led  to  an  attempt  to  kill  the  king;  and 
that  such  attempt  was  successful. 

These  letters  are  found  in  a  cotemporary  writer,  her 
Latin-master,  George  Buchannan,  as  an  appendix  to  his  libel 
against  her,  called  the  "  Detection  of  the  Actions  of  Mary, 
Queen  of  Scots,  concerning  the  Murder  of  her  Husband 
and  her  conspiracy,  adultery  and  pretended  marriage  with 
Earl  Bothwell,"  etc.,  etc.  The  statements  in  this  "  De- 
tection "  rely  for  proof  solely  and  entirely  on  these  letters, 
and  on  the  author's  own  word.    This  work  dedicated  to 


188       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

Elizabeth,*  was  written  by  com'mand  of  the  lords  of  th€ 
privy  council  of  tlie  Regent  Murray.  Thus  attests  Cecilj 
Secretary  of  State: — "The  said  Mr.  George  Buchar.n.an 
vas  privy  to  the  proceedings  of  the  lords  of  the  kiiig'a 
secret  council  (of  whom  were  Murray,  Morion,  Lindsay 
and  Maitland),  and  the  book  was  written  by  hirn, 
not  of  himself y  nor  in  his  own  name ;  but  according 
tu  the  instructions  given  to  him^  by  common  conference 
of  the  lords  of  the  privy  council  of  Scotland ;  by  him 
07ibi/  for  his  learning  penned  but  bi/  them  the  matter 
ministered,  and  allowed  and  exhibited  bv  them,  as  matter 
that  they  have  offered  and  do  continue  in  offering,  to  stand 
and  justify  befoie  our  sovereign  lady  (Elizabeth)."f 

This  book  wasj  written  in  Latin,  French,  Scottish  and 
English,  and  widely  circulated  thoughout  Europe.  No 
mod^rrn  copy  exists;  no  modern  historian  quotes  oi  has 
quoted  fifty  consecutive  lines  of  it ;  no  modern  historian, 
writing  against  Mary,  has  reproduced  those  lettei-s,  but  1 
mil,  verbatim  ac  literatim,  in  a  volume  of  letters  and 
papers  of  Marry  Stuart,  rapidly  to  follow  this  biography. 
As  for  the  body  of  the  work  it  is  too  filthily  coarse  to  print 
two  pages  of  He,  for  whom  in  France  she  was  an  angel,J 
and  who  has  no  syllable  to  breathe  ao;ainst  her,  the 
savieur  of  his  life  and  maker  of  his  fortunes,  until  her 
marriage  with  Darnley,  he,  George  Buchannan,  makes  hei 
the  most  consummate  hypocrite,  the  most  shameless  pros- 

•  detection,  8.        f  Strickland,  v.  74.        $  See  his  poem,  Appendix  A. 


The  Murder  of  Darnlet.  180 


titute,  the  most  blood-thirsty  she-fiend  that  ever  blackened 
the  history  of  human  life.* 

He  makes  her  become  truculent  one-eyed  Both  well' 
mistress,  while  her  babe  was  but  a  few  weeks  old;f  makea 
her,  daughter  of  James  Stuart  and  Mary  of  Lorraine, 
offer  to  pander  to  her  husband's  lusts  ;J  and  yet  at 
the  same  time,  thirst,  with  a  famished  wolfs  thirst,  for 
his  blood,  while  his  new-born  child  was  lying  on  her 
bosom.§  He  paints  her  not  only  as  an  utterly  abandoned 
woman,  but  as  shamelessly  so,  publicly  so,||  repulsively  so 
even  to  the  coarsest  nature.  He  paints  her  even  as 
iiseased  with  her  licentiousness  as  triumphing  with 
delight  at  the  murder  of  D-arnley.**  He  declares  this 
sudden  leap  from  purity  into  utter  iniquity  to  have  been 
made  after  June  1566,  and  in  June  1567,  she  was  crown- 
,es8  and  a  prisoner  in  Lochleven, 

So  that  she  who  was 

Maturely  grave  even  in  her  tender  years, 
Whose  nature  had  the  seeds  of  virtue  sown, 
By  moral  precepts  to  perfection  grown, 

could  in  one  short  year,  while  busy  in  the  complicate 
affairs  of  her  kingdom,  caring  for  her  child,  nursing  her 
husband,  struggling  to  restore  popery,  find  leisure  to 
become  a  Messalina;  to  forget  her  duty  to  God  and  his 
church  ;  to  her  kingdom  and  herself ;  to  her  husband  and 

♦  Detection,  5,  8,  9, 11  ;  anywhere — ^you  can*t  go  amiss. 

Hbld.8.   $  Ibid.  5.   §  Ibid.  13.   B  Ibid.  7,  U  17.    ^  Ibid.  89,   *♦  Ibid.  381 


190 


Mary,  Qdeen  of  Scots. 


her  boy ;  to  forget  her  faith  as  .1  Christian,  her  parity  as  a 
wife,  her  dignity  as  a  queen,  her  affection  as  a  mother 
and  her  honor  as  a  woman,  for  the  most  brutal  and  trucu* 
lent  villain  in  all  Scotland,  James  Hepburn,  the  oue-oyed 
Earl  of  Bothwell. 

Now  let  consistent  George  Bachannan,  in  this  brtpa 
Detection,  describe  the  man  upon  whom  the  delicately 
nurtured  princess  so  madly  and  criminally  doted,  "  At 
for  his  eloquence  and  beauty,  we  need  not  say  much,  sith 
they  that  have  seen  him,  can  well  remember  both  his 
countenance,  his  gait,  and  the  whole  form  of  his  body 
how  gay  it  was;  they  that  have  heard  him  are  not 
ignorant  of  his  rude  utterance  and  blockish ness.  For 
wisdom  even  they  that  be  most  affectionate  unto  him  d%re 
not  charge  him  with  it.  A  beholder  of  other  men's 
fighting,  sometime  hardly  chasing  them  that  fled ;  but  the 
face  of  one  near  at  hand  turned  toward  him  he  nev^.r 
could  abide."*  1  dare  not  copy  the  language  in  which  his 
moral  character  is  painted. 

Villain  as  he  was,  he  was  the  only  man  in  Mary'a 
cabinet  who  had  never  sold  himself  to  England. 

Modern  antiquarian  writers  have  been  decent  at  leatt  in 
their  language,  and  carried  some  show  of  reason  in  the 
manner  of  their  attacks.  The  most  respectable  and  fullest 
of  these  is  Dr.  Robertson,  historian  of  Charles  V.  of 
Scotland,  America  and  India.     He   has  calmly  but 

•  DetecUon,  B8L 


The  Murder  of  Darnley.  191 

klioroughly  united  all  that  looks  like  proof  against  Queen 
Mary,  and  to  answer  him  will  be  to  answer  all.  Let  re  a 
first  however  take  my  position  and  endeavor  to  prove  the 
natural  impossibility  of  Mary^s  guilt,  before  going  into  the 
question  of  facts. 

I  believe  then  that  as  to  the  murder  of  Darnley,  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots  had  neither  part  nor  lot  in  the  matter; 
openly  or  in  secret. 

Natural  argument  is  against  it  because  she  was  a  wo- 
man, wife  and  mother.  Her  past  life  as  recorded  in  these 
pages,  and  not  contradicted  by  her  opponents,  is  a  strong 
tostinabny  in  her  favor.  Gentleness  and  tenderness, 
impossibility  of  retaining  rancor  and  a  too  forgiving 
disposition  were  her  chief  characteristics.  She  was  fond 
of  all  pets,  birds,  dogs,  horses  and  other  animals.  She 
was  passionately  fond  of  children,  stopping  to  pet  and 
caress  them  in  the  streets.  She  was  the  tenderest  mistress 
ever  man  or  woman  served.  From  the  first  childish  letters 
written  to  her  mother,  to  the  very  last  directed  to  the 
Pope,  the  King  of  France  and  the  Due  de  Guise,  scarce 
any  are  without  some  request  or  gentle  mention  of  those 
who  served  her.  If  you  will  stay  with  me,"  she  said  to 
Oarnley's  servants  after  his  murder,  "  I  will  be  more  than 

a  mistress ;  I  will  be  a  mother  to  you." 
The  attempt  to  assassinate  her  in  France,  the  ruffian 

assaults  Df  Ruthven,  Bothwell,  Lindsay ;  the  twenty  timea 

r^ated  treachery  of  her  base  brother  Murray,  the  many 


192       Maky,   Queen  of  Scots. 

plots  against  her  life  and  crown,  all  these  she  pardoned 
She  took  under  her  protection  and  forbade  to  be  struck  oi 
harshly  treated,  the  galley  slaves  that  rowed  her  back  from 
France.  She  was  the  personal  nurse  of  Francis  11.  She 
wept  at  the  brutalities  of  harsh  Knox.  She  fainted  when 
forced  to  attend  the  execution  of  Ch^telard  and  Huntly; 
she  established  courts  and  an  advocate  for  the  poor,  paying 
the  latter  out  of  her  own  purse ;  she  was  exhorted  to  per- 
secute thera  who  persecuted  her  and  always  firmly  refused. 
Her  whole  existence  was  made  up  of  gentleness  and  mercy, 
and  how  then  in  one  year  could  this  young  woman  became 
a  devil  ? 

Then  too  her  religiousness  forbids  the  enterainment  of 
an  idea  of  her  guilt.  Her  constant  piety  of  word  and 
deed  and  thought,  her  fervency  in  prayer,  her  constancy 
m  alms  deeds  and  forgiveness  of  injuries.  Her  devotion  to 
the  offices  of  the  church  and  to  its  supreme  head  on 
eartn,  of  all  of  which  her  letters  are  full,  which  made 
Knox  give  up  her  conversion  in  despair ;  how  could  she 
forget  all  these  for  a  year,  to  li^e  in  adultery  and  to  plot  the 
murder  of  a  man  who  had  just  oome  out  the  avowed  and 
fervent,  although  unwise  advocate  of  Catholicism  in  Scot- 
land! 

What  could  she  gain  by  it.  The  destruction  of  a  mm 
who  was  in  her  way  (if  you  like  to  have  it  so),  and 
free  communion  with  Bothwell.  She  could  acquire  a  Pro- 
teetapt  husband  twice  her  age,  who  was  an  unpcrupuloiifi 


The  Muedt<-r  cf  Darnley  193 


and  coarse  ruflSan,  at  the  expense  of  imbruing  her  Lands  in 
*iie  blood  of  a  young  and  handsome  Catholic  partner. 

If  she  succeeded  in  concealing  her  crime,  she  knew  well 
that  Murray  her  brother — whose  eye  had  never  been  taken 
from  the  throne  since  his  father's  death — that  the  royal 
blooded  Hamiltons  and  the  haughty  Douglas,  would  never 
obey  James  Hepburn ;  she  must  lose  her  peace  of  con- 
science and  become  an  incarnation  of  remorse  ;  she  must 
lose  the  sacraments  and  ordinances  of  her  creed,  the  fealty 
of  her  powerful  nobles,  the  hope  of  restoring  her  religion 
in  Scotland.  While  if  discovered,  she  would  lose  all  these 
and  more  ;  exemption  from  open  shame ;  the  respect  of  all 
good  men ;  the  alliances  of  the  European  powers ;  the 
guardianship  of  her  only  child;  the  very  husband  she  had 
sinned  for,  even  the  feigned  friendship  of  Elizabeth,  her 
crown  and  throne,  her  liberty  and  life. 

Again,  r.ould  she  murder  the  man  she  lored,  not  in  9 
passion  of  jealousy,  but  with  cool  deliberate  malice  ?  Foi 
she  did  love  Darnley,  and  it  was  not  a  sudden  passion,  as 
Buchannan  fables  and  Robertson  copies.*     She  was  com- 

*  Let  John  Knox  tell  the  stoiy.  Maitland,  he  says,  was  to  iDform  Elizabe  tb 
that  Queen  Mary  was  minded  to  marry  her  cousin,  Lord  Darnley,  and  th# 
rather  b'jcause  he  was  so  near  of  blood  to  both  queens,  for  by  his  moth  ei 
he  waa  cousin-german  to  the  Queen  of  Scotland,  also  of  near  kindred  an 
the  same  name,  by  his  father.  His  mother  was  cousin-german  to  the  Queen 
of  England.  Here,  mark  God's  Providence.  King  James  V.  having  lost 
his  two  sons,  did  declare  his  resolution  to  make  the  Earl  of  Lennox  his  heh 
•f  the  crown,  but  he  (James),  prevented  by  sudden  death,  that  design,  ceased. 
Ykmn  c&me  the  Earl  of  Lennox,  firom  France,  with  Intent  to  marry  King  JuMfl 


194 


Mabt,  Qubek  op  Scots 


pelled  to  marry;  there  was  no  lineal  heir  for  tho«e  twt 
ancient  kingdoms.  She  was  beset  on  all  sides,  from  th« 
time  of  the  death  of  Francis,  to  re-wed.  Neither  her  own 
Protestant  people  nor  Protestant  England,  would  have  per- 
mitted a  Catholic  prince  to  be  her  husband ;  and  a  Protes- 
tant was  against  her  own  desires.  And  she  chose  Darnley, 
after  mature  and  earnest  reflection,  because  she  was  com- 
pelled to  marry,  and  he  was  simply  the  most  eligible  offer 
Then  she  did  her  best  as  a  good  wife  to  love  him,  and  she 
succeeded.  No  matter  how  much  he  annoyed  her,  she 
always  forgave  him ;  even  for  the  murder  of  Riccio.  How 
tenderly  she  nursed  him  in  his  illness ;  how  patiently  she 
bore  with  his  waywardness;  how  quickly  she  yielded  her 
heart  when  he  sought  it  penitently!  It  is  impossible 
to  read  their  last  reconciliation,  and  her  conduct  towards 
him  afterwards  with  an  unprejudiced  mind,  and  not  per- 
ceive her  love  for  him.  Buchannan  says,  and  Robertson,  aa 
UBual  echoes,  that  it  was  all  to  lull  his  suspicions  ;  all  deceit, 
all  hypocrisy !  Great  Heaven,  his  suspicions  of  whom ! 
What  did  he  suspect  her  of?  he  well  knew  the  truth 
cf  what  she  had  told  him  after  Riccio's  murder,  that  he 
had  no  other  friend  in  Scotland.  Her  whole  life  proves 
that  her  reconciliation  was  sincere,  that  her  love  was 

widow,  but  that  faOed  alM.   He  marries  Mary  Douglas,  and  his  son,  Lord 

Darnley,  marrieth  Qaeen  Mary,  James  V.'s  dau^ter ;  and  so  the  king's  deeirt 
b  fulfilled ;  the  crown  remalneth  In  the  name  and  in  the  family."— t7<)A«  Xmom 
ffUtory  qf  Scotland, 


The  Murder  of  Darnlet.  195 


restored  to  him  .n  very  deed  and  truth,  and  there  i« 
nothing  to  the  contrary  but  the  simple  assertion  which 
George  Buchannan  was  paid  for  making  by  Murray,  Mor 
ton,  Maitland  and  their  crew. 

And  then  the  means  adopted  to  get  rid  of  him  ;  oh,  il 
k  too  absurd  to  profess  belief  in  her  complicity  in  this 
She  could  easily  have  punished  him  for  any  of  the  plots  in 
which  he  engaged ;  she  could  have  accepted  the  divorce, 
which  would  have  been  even  a  popular  measure,  and  that 
was  proposed  at  the  moment  of  her  keenest  indignatioii. 
She  could  have  taken  him  off  quietly  by  poison ;  she  could, 
with  a  glance  like  King  John's  to  Hubert,  have  procured 
his  assassination.  She  could  have  left  him  to  the  hands  of 
Dr.  Abernethy  who  was  murdering  him  professionally,  by 
giving  him  antidotes  for  poison,  instead  of  sending  her  own 
French  physician  to  cure  him  of  small  pox.  She  could 
have  brought  him  out  in  the  cold  air  instead  of  linger* 
ing  three  days  to  nurse  him,  and  sending  for  her  own 
litter  in  order  that  he  might  "travel  more  softly,"  but  she 
overlooks  all  these  and  other  quiet  methods  and  chooses 
of  all  things  the  explosion  of  a  mine ;  chooses  to  startle 
Edinburg  from  its  midnight  dreams  with  thunderous  pro 
clamation  of  the  crime,    "  Credat  Judosus  Apella  :  non 

Let  us  look  at  the  argument  of  facts.  Dr.  Robertson 
iball  bring  the  accusation.* 

»  BoberteoQ,  Hist.  aooi.  aai 


196 


Mary,   Queen  of  Soots. 


"  1.  Mary's  love  for  Darnley  was  a  sudden  and  youthftt 
passion.  The  beauty  of  his  person,  set  off  by  some  external 
frivolous  accomplishments  was  his  chief  merit,  and  gained 
her  affections.  2.  His  capricious  temper  soon  raised  in 
the  queen  a  disgust  that  broke  out  on  different  occasions 
His  engaging  in  the  conspiracy  against  Riccio  converted 
this  disgust  into  an  antipathy  which  she  took  no  pains  to 
conceal.  This  breach  was  in  its  nature  perhaps  irrepar- 
able ;  the  king  certainly  wanted  that  art  and  condescension 
whi(>.h  alone  could  have  repaired  it.  It  widened  every  day 
and  a  deep  and  settled  hatred  effaced  all  remains  of  affec 
tion.*  Bothwell  observed  this  and  was  prompted  by 
ambition  and  perhaps  by  love  to  found  upon  it  a  scherao 
which  proved  fatal  both  to  the  queen  and  himself.  He 
had  served  Mary  at  different  times  with  fidelity  and  suc- 
cess. He  insinuated  himself  into  her  favor  by  addness  and 
flattery.f  By  degrees  he  gained  her  heart.  4.  In  order 
to  gratify  his  love  or  at  least  his  ambition,  it  was  necessary 
fco  get  rid  of  the  king.  Mary  had  rejected  the  proposal 
which  it  is  said  had  been  made  to  her  for  obtaining  a 
divorce.  The  king  was  equally  hated  by  the  partisans  of 
the  House  of  Hamilton,  a  considerable  party  in  a  king- 
dom ;  by  Murray,  one  of  the  most  popular  and  powerful 
persons  in  his  country,  by  Morton  and  his  associates,  whom 

♦  IXa,  please,  read  the  two  first  paragraphs  of  chapter  xiv.  to  reAite  this  iOiA 
iome  fallacy, 
t  Compare  with  Buchaonan  a' few  paipes  back. 


The  MtjRDEE  ov   Darnlet.  191 

he  had  deceived,  and  whom.  Both  well  had  bound  to  hia 
interest  by  a  recent  favor.  Among  the  people  Darnley 
was  fallen  into  extreme  contempt.  5.  Bothwell  might 
expect  for  all  these  reasons  that  the  murder  of  the  king 
would  pass  without  any  inquiry,  and  might  trust  to  Mary's 
love  and  to  his  own  address  and  good  fortune  for  the 
accomplishment  of  the  rest  of  his  wishes.  What  Bothwell 
expected  really  came  to  pass.  6.  Mary  if  not  privy  herself 
to  the  design,  connived  at  an  action  which  rid  her  of  a 
man  whom  she  had  such  good  reason  to  detest.  7.  A  * 
few  months  after  the  murder  of  her  husband,  she  married 
the  person  who  was  both  suspected  and  accused  of  having 
perpetrated  that  odious  crime." 

There  is  a  good  deal  of  grammatical  writing  here  quite 
unnecessary  to  the  accusation.  I  have  inserted  the  num- 
bers for  my  own  convenience.  The  point  numbered  4 
is  a  mere  matter  of  course  and  has  no  bearing  either  for 
or  against.  No.  1  is  contradicted  at  page  IQl,  by  the 
history  of  his  courtship  chap.  11  and  more  fully  in  Mrs. 
Strickland's  admirable  work,  vol.  iii.  ch.  16,  et  seq.  So 
that  it  all  amounts  to  this.  That  before  Darnley's  death, 
for  some  reason  or  other,  Mary  came  to  hate  him  with  "  a 
deep  and  settled  hatred.  That  Bothwell  gained  her  heart 
That  Mary  if  not  privy  to,  at  least  connivea  at  the  murder, 
and  prevented  inquiry  into  it  afterwards.  That  she  maiv 
lied  Bothwell  is  an  historical  truth.    It  is  used  here  as  an 


198 


Mart,  Queen  of  Soots. 


«r  post  facto  proof  of  her  guilt  and  must  be  answered  by 
the  history  of  that  marriage. 

But  look  at  the  other  points.  Darnley  misbehaved ; 
Mary  was  vexed  and  from  vexation  passed  gradually 
through  disgust,  antipathy  and  hatred  to  murder.  Njt 
one  shadow  of  proof  given  in  support  of  the  assertion  that 
she  hated  him,  while  it  contradicts  every  fact  of  their 
intercourse  from  the  marriage  m  Holyrood  to  the  farewell 
at  Kirk  in  the  Fields.  The  reader  has  but  to  turn  back 
and  read  her  conduct  to  Darnley,  her  indignant  remon- 
strances with  him,  her  angers,  and  her  forgivenesses,  to  see 
the  injustice  of  this  reasoning.  As  well  accuse  the  widow 
Smith  of  murder,  because  she  showed  anger  and  disgust  at 
ber  late  husband's  ill-conduct  in  his  lifetime. 

The  fact  is  that  the  learned  historian,  from  prejudice  of 
religious  education,  came  to  his  work  >vith  a  fixed  belief  in 
Mary's  guilt,  and  built  up  this  fine  argument  to  prove  that 
belief  a  correct  one,  instead  of  studying  her  life  and  com- 
ing by  its  facts  sadly  but  unavoidably  to  his  conclusion. 
He  reasons  in  a  circle.  How  do  you  know  that  Mary  waa 
guilty  of  her  husband's  death.  Dr.  Robertson  ?  Because 
rihe  hated  him.  But  how  do  you  know  she  hated  him  f 
Because  she  connived  at  his  death!  It  is  a  convenient 
system,  but  not  a  strong  one. 

No,  the  Doctor  starts  from  his  preconceived  and  edu- 
cated belief,  and  when  you  follow  him  up  where  do  you  find 


The  Murder  of  Darnley.  199 


him  !  Where  you  find  all  the  rest.  In  a  niche  between 
the  so-called  confession  of  French  Paris  and  the  letters 
and  sonnets  in  Master  George  Buchannan's  "Detection." 
This  is  the  starting-point  of  Anti-Marian  writers,  not  the 
birth-day  of  Mary.  They  do  not  examine  her  from  the 
oommencement.    They  begin  at  the  end. 

We  have  conducted  Mary's  life  to  this  point.  Now  let 
Of  also  look  at  the  end. 


Chapter  XVIII 


Was  Mary  an  accomplice  of  Bothwell?— 

Letters. 

We  are  obliged  to  go  before  our  story  here ;  but  it  has 
eeenied  best  to  settle,  at  this  point,  the  question  of  the  guilt 
or  innocence  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

Henry  Darnley  was  murdered  on  the  9th  of  February, 
1567. 

Bothwell  was  accused,  and  owing  to  the  vacillating  con- 
duct of  Lennox,  received  a  mock  trial  and  acquittal,  the 
court  being  principally  composed  of  his  own  accomplices, 
the  signers  of  the  Bond  on  page  176,  April  12th. 

After  BothwelPs  defeat  at  Carberry,  Queen  Mary  delivered 
herself  up  to  the  rebel  lords,  and  was  by  them  sent  prisoner 
to  Lochleven  Castle,  June  15,  1567. 

On  the  20th  of  June,  Dalgleish,  Bothwell's  servant,  was 
captured,  and  on  his  person  it  is  asserted  were  found  the 
letters  which  convict  the  queen  of  adultery  and  connivance 
at  murder.    They  were  found  it  is  said,  as  follows :— "  In 


The  Murder  of  Darnley*  201 


the  castell  of  Edinburg  tbair  was  left  by  the  Earl  of  Both- 
well,  before  bis  fleeing  away,  and  was  send  for  be  an6 
George  Dalgleish  his  servand,  who  was  taken  be  the  Ear) 
of  Mortoun,  ane  small  gylt  coffer,  not  fully  ane  fut  lang^ 
garnisht  in  sindrie  places  with  the  Roman  letter  F,  under 
ane  king's  crown,  wharin  were  certane  letteris  and  writings, 
weel  knawin,  and  be  aithis  to  be  aflSirmit  to  have  been  writ- 
ten hd  the  Queen  of  Scottis  awin  hand  to  the  Erie."* 
V  The  rebel  lords  propose  to  charge  Mary  with  tyranny, 
inccntinency  and  murder,  and  allege  that  they  have  "  her 
own  handwriting  to  prove  the  charge/'    July  24. 

Finally,  they  do  charge  her  and  produce  letters,  on 
the  15th  December,  just  six  months  after  her  imprison- 
ment. They  are  shown  j9  the  commissioners  of  Queen 
Elizabeth  in  England,  Mary  being  then  virtually  a  captive 
there. 

These  letters,  sonnets  and  a  paper  purporting  to  be  the 
confession  of  Fnench  Paris,  are  the  only  document!  upon 
which  the  queen's  guilt  is  attempted  to  be  established.  I 
propose  to  show  that  all  are  simple  forgeries.  And  to  do 
this,  must  begin  with  a  short  history  of  the  "  Letters." 

The  first  mention  made  of  them  is  in  a  letter  from 
Sii  Nicholas  Throckmorton  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  after  Mary's 
imprisonment  in  Lochleven,  July  24,  1567.  He  says: — 
**  Thirdly,  they  mean  to  charge  her  with  the  murder  of  hei 
husband,  whereof  they  say,  they  have  as  apparent  proof 

*  Bucbazmsn,  Detection,  91. 


202       Maey,  Qukea  of  Scots. 

against  her  as  may  be,  as  well  hy  the  testimony/  of  her  own 
handwriting  as  also  by  suflScient  witnesses."*  This  is  th« 
fiist  mention  although  they  are  said  to  have  been  taken  on 
June  20th. 

These  letters  are  eight  in  number,  and  are  described  in 
an  act  of  Murray's  secret  council,  December  4  (six  months 
after  their  discovery)  as  "  diverse  her  privie  letters,  writ- 
ten and  subscribed  with  her  own  hand,  and  sent  by  her 
to  James,  Earl  of  Bothwell.^f  But  the  word  "  subscribed 
is  withdrawn  on  the  loth,  and  it  is  merely  said  "wholly 
written  in  her  own  hand."J 

They  next  appear  at  York,  October  1568,  where  the 
queen's  commissioners  met  those  of  Murray  and  Elizabeth, 
and  are  exhibited  by  Maitland  and  Buchannan  as  evidence 
against  the  queen.  § 

They  were  taken  it  is  said  in  a  gilt  box.  Now  what  the 
material  of  the  box  was  we  do  not  know,  but  to  judge 
from  its  elasticity,  it  was  made  either  of  gutta  perch  a  or 
Maitland's  conscience.  At  first  it  contained  but  three 
letters,  then  seven,  then  eight.  Fifteen  months  afterwards 
it  gave  forth  for  the  first  time,  the  sonnets,  ||  and  there  is 
every  reason  to  believe  that  they  could  have  found  in  it 
anything  that  Robert  Houdin,  or  Signor  Blitz  find  in  theif 
lagic  boxes. 

tfary,  hearing  something  of  these  papers,  instructs  hei 

•Strickland,  ▼.824. 

tTytler,LS5.  $Ibid.L87.  {Ibid.  L  95.  lIbld.L91. 


The  Murdek  op  Darnley.  203 


commissioner,  that,  "  In  C2.se  they  alledge  they  have  any 
writings  of  mine  which  may  infer  presumption  against  me, 
in  that  case  you  shall  desire  the  principals  {i.  e.  originals)^ 
to  be  produced,  and  that  I,  myself,  may  have  inspection 
thereof  and  inake  answer  thereto,''^  *  A  request  certainly 
reasonable  but  never  complied  with.  She  never  saw  them 
till  the  day  of  her  death. 

How  Elizabeth  acted  may  be  judged  from  her  order 
in  council,  at  Hampton  Court,  October  30,  1568.  After 
Mary's  Commissioners  have  been  received,  Murray's  are  to 
follow,  and  of  them  shall  be  demanded  "  Why  they  forbear 
to  charge  the  queen  with  the  guiltiness  of  the  murder  of 
her  husband.  If  they  will  in  the  end,  to  show  suflScient 
matter  to  prove  her  guilty,  it  is  thought  good  for 
many  respects  that  they  shall  be  assured  that  they  shall 
not  be  made  subject  to  her  indignation^  and  that  her 
Majesty  (Elizabeth),  will  never  restore  her  to  the  throne. 
And  because  this  manner  of  proceeding  cannot  be  so 
secretly  used,  but  the  knowledge  thereof  will  by  some 
means  come  to  the  Queen  of  Scots,  it  is  thought  most 
necessary  of  all  things,  that  she  be  circumspectly  looked 
unto,  for  doubt  of  escaping,  and  therefore  it  is  thought 
good  that  all  preparation  be  hastened  for  removing  her  to 
Tutbury,"* 

So  when  poor  Mary  is  safely  incarcerated  in  the  Castk 
o!  Tutbury,  the  conferences  are  opened,  and  the  Earl  of 

•  Labancfl;  U.  fiOfi.  •Tytter.Llia 


204 


Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 


Munay  and  his  creatures  formally  accuse  her  of  partidi 
pancy  in  her  husband's  death.    November  2(5,  1^68. 

Then  Mary  demands  of  Elizabeth  that  slie  also  "  maj 
come  in  proper  person  into  her  Majesty's  own  presence,  and 
that  of  her  nobility,  and  of  all  the  ambassadors  of  other 
countries,  to  declare  her  innocency,  and  to  make  her 
Majesty  and  them  understand  the  untrue,  invented  calum- 
nies of  her  said  rebels,  since  they  have  free  access  tc 
accuse  her,"  otherwise  that  the  commissioners  "  shall  pro- 
test, that  for  the  said  considerations  all  that  they  can  or 
may  do  against  us,  shall  be  null  and  of  no  prejudice  to 
us  hereafter."  She  then  protests  against  the  manner  in 
which  the  conference  is  conducted,  and  orders  her  repre- 
Bentatives  as  follows: — "The  Earl  of  Murray  is  permitted 
to  come  into  their  (the  commissioners')  presence,  and  if  the 
like  be  not  granted  us  as  is  reasonable,  and  yet  our  sister 
i^hall  condemn  us  in  our  absence,  not  having  place  to  answer 
ioT  ourselves  as  justice  requires,  then  you  shall  break  your 
inference,  and  proceed  no  further  therein  but  take  your 
leave  and  come  away/'* 

Mary  was  not  afraid  of  inquiry  nor  of  justice,  but  an 
appeal  for  either  to  Elizabeth  Tudor  was  a  vain  one.  The 
fangs  of  that  she- wolf  are  fastened  in  her  rival's  flesh,  nor 
will  she  loosen  hold  till  she  have  gnawed  her  way  to  thtj 
heart. 

Again,  December  19,  she  demands  to  see  the  original 

•lAbanoff,  IL  282. 


The  Murder  of  Darjjley. 


205 


letter,  and  says  she,  "  With  God's  grace  we  shall  rnako 
Buch  answer  thereto,  tha-t  our  innocence  shall  be  known  to 
our  good  sister  and  to  all  other  princes,  and  shall  charge 
ikem  as  authors,  inventors  and  doers  of  the  same  crime 
thoy  would  impute  to  us."* 

But  on  the  12th  January,  1569,  "The  Earl  of  Murray 
And  all  his  adherents  came  into  the  presence  of  the  Queen's 
Majesty  of  England,  and  got  license  to  depart  into  Scot- 
land."! So  away  they  went  with  their  precious  box  of 
letters  and  sonnets,  and  these  were  heard  of  no  more  until 
1571,  when  the  worthy  George  Buchannan  published  the 
I'bscene  libel  which  he  called  the  Detection.  Then,  they 
were  given  to  the  public  and  disseminated  i-hroughout 
iCurope.  Such  is  the  history  of  the  letters.  iTc  w  for  their 
merits. 

To  any  one  familiar  with  the  style  of  Marv's  genuine 
letters,  a  mere  lection  of  these  epistles  were  suffij"! en t  proof 
of  their  spuriousness.  Their  inelegancy,  their  excessive 
ijoarseness  and  lack  of  every  feminine  and  delicat-i  charac- 
teristic; their  gross  imitations  and  maudlin  lustfalness  are 
utterly  at  variance  not  only  with  the  queen's  character, 
but  even  with  that  of  anv  woman  refined  enouofh  or  culti- 
vated  enough  to  write  good  French.  As  for  the  aonneta, 
Brantome,  a  good  judge,  says — "77s  sant  trop  g)  ^sier^  el 
mul  polls  pour  etre  aoi^tis  d'clle^'l 

That  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  daughter  of  James  V.  apd 

•  Labanoff,  ii.  258         t  Tytler,  L  155  t  TyU«r,  L  966i. 


206 


Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 


Mary  de  Guise,  the  elegant  ornament  of  the  Court 
of  Henry  IT.,  the  pupil  of  Ronsard  and  Buchannan,  th« 
belle  of  Europe,  whose  hand  was  coveted  by  nearly  every 
unmarried  prince  then  living;  while  her  husband  was  still 
living  and  her  only  child  a  few  months  old,  that  she  could 
write  such  things  as  this  to  rough,  fierce,  monops  Bothwell, 
is  incredible. 

**  Las !  n^est  U  pas  J&  en  possession 
Du  corps 

Entre  ses  mains  et  dans  son  plein  pouToir, 
Je  metz  mon  fils,  mon  honneur  et  ma  Tie 
Hon  pais,  mes  subjectz,  mon  ame  assubjectie. 
Pour  luy  aussi  je  jette  maintes  larmes. 
Premier  quand  il  se  fist  de  ce  corps  possessetir, 
Du  quel  alert  il  n'^a/toit  pas  le  cctur^''*  etc.,  etc.^ 

But  that  she  should  send  pages  of  this  stuff  to  him  and 
rign  her  name  to  them  is  impossible. 

Then  again  that  Both  well  should  preserve  such  damning 
evidence  against  himself,  and  so  carelessly  too,  not  even 
taking  it  with  him  or  destroying  it  in  his  flight  from 
Edinburg,  is  incredible.  And  the  box  too ;  she  must  needi 
give  him  a  relic  of  her  idolized  boy-husband  Francis.  How 
Murray  got  it,  might  be  arrived  at  by  remembering  that 
after  imprisoning  his  royal  sister  in  Lochleven,  he  robbed 
her  treasury  and  jewel  caskets  in  Holyrood. 

The  probable  truth  is  this.  They  were  composed  by 
George  Buchannan  (compare  their  style  with  the  Deteo 

•DeUetlon,  Soimetts,  pauim. 


The  Murdeb  of  Darnley.  207 


ticn)  and  copied  by  Secretary  Maitland  of  Lethington,  at 
the  command  of  James  Earl  of  Murray.  Lord  Errol,  who 
was  with  Murray  until  the  queen's  escape  from  Lochleven, 
signs  the  instructions  sent  to  the  queen's  commissioners  by 
the  loyal  Scots  nobles,  and  in  those  instructions  says  of 
Murray,  Morton  and  their  accomplices: — "They  with 
deceitful  means  obtained  the  strength  of  the  country ;  also 
they  had  the  whole  munition  put  in  their  hands  by  trea 
sonable  deceit  and  boasted  that  if  the  loval  lords  were  to 
mise  an  army,  they  would  send  her  Iiead  to  them.''* 

These  letters  are  said  to  have  been  found  upon  Dalgleish 
on  the  SOth  of  June.  Why  were  they  kept  secret  for  six 
months  ?  Why  was  he  respited  for  six  months  instead  of 
being  hanged  with  Talla,  Powrie  and  Hepburn  ?  Why 
was  he  never  examined  about  them  ?  Why  lay  they  so 
long  idle?  Because  they  did  not  exist.  Because  they  had 
not  yet  been  manufactured.  When  the  time  comes,  you 
shall  have  not  only  letters,  but  sonnets  and  a  confession 
of  French  Paris  and  a  contract  of  marriage  in  the  bargain  ! 

They  hold  absolute  proof  under  her  own  hand  that  she, 
as  paramour  of  Both  well,  murdered  Henry  Darnley.  They 
have  it  on  the  20th  of  June,  yet  on  the  26th  they  accuse 
him  of  "  intercepting  her  majesty,  carrying  her  forcibly 
away,  holding  her  as  his  prisoner,  compelling  her  to  marry 
bira,  and  keeping  her  under  restraint." 

And  again  in  answer  to  the  inquiries  of  Sir  N.  Throcfc 

•  Tytl«r,  I  &8,  not^ 


208       Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 


morton  on  behalf  of  Elizabeth,  thev  describe  how  she  wal 
carried  ofi'  by  force,  her  person  violated,  and  afrei-wards 
ihey  add,  *'he  kept  her  environed  with  a  continual  guard 
of  harquebusiers  as  well  day  as  night."  *  *  *  "  Al 
which  considerations  had  rendered  it  their  duty,  to  take 
np  arms  to  deliver  their  sovereign  from  his  wicked  hands."* 
In  the  same  paper  they  call  him  the  "  murderer  of  the  king," 
but  where  is  her  complicity.  They  have  the  proof  of  it  in 
that  miraculous  box,  why  not  produce  it? 

Again.  Murray  and  Morton  pledge  their  words  of  horror 
that  these  letters  are  written  in  French  by  Queen  Mary 
Stuart's  own  hand.  As  French  originals  they  were  pre- 
sented to  the  English  commissioners  and  explained  by 
George  Buchannan.  In  his  Detection,  over  the  head  of 
each  letter,  he  gives  five  or  six  lines  from  the  original 
French,  "Now  mark,  how  plain  a  tale  shall  put  them 
down  1"  They  were  not  vv/itten  first  in  French  at  all. 
Therefore  they  were  not  written  by  her  to  Bothwell,  as 
Bworn  to,  on  their  honors,  by  those  double-dyed  villains 
and  perjured  traitors  Murray  and  Morton.  These  letters, 
whoever  was  their  author,  were  originally  written  in  hioad 
Scotch,  thence  translated  into  Latin  from  Latin  into 
French,  and  this  second-hand  translation  was  sworn  to  by 
Murray  and  Morton  as  Queen's  Mary's  original  writing.f 

Proofs. — They  are  full  of  Scottish  idioms  which  both 


•  Strickland,  ▼.  324. 


+  TyUer,i.  188-188  ;  UL  88a 


The  Murderof  Darn  ley.  209 


the  Latin  and  French  translators  have  blundered  over. 
Take  three  from  the  first  letter,* 

"  Ve  have  sair  going  to  see  seiJc  folk."  You  have,  or  it 
is,  sore  or  unpleasant  to  visit  sick  folks.  Now  the  Latin 
man,  from  the  old  fashioned  long  "s"  takes  "sair"  for  "fair," 
and  "5^2^"  for  "sic,"  or  "  such,"  ana  accordingly  writes:— 

"  Bella  hujusmodi  hommum  visitatio." 

llie  Frenchman  copies, 

"  Vojla  une  belle  visitation  de  telles  gens."  It  is  pleasant 
to  visit  such  people.    Again  : 

"I  am  going  to  seek  my  rest  till  to-morrow  when  I  shall 
end  my  by  bylle  or  bylle^^^  a  common  Scotticism  for  any 
writing.  But  the  Latinist  makes  it  "  ticm  mea  biblia 
finiam^''  and  the  Frenchman  "  afin  que  je  Jinisse  id  ma 
.  hible^''  when  I  shall  end  my  Bible  !    And  again  : 

"  I  am  irkit  (i,  e.  weary)  and  going  to  sleep."  The  copy- 
ist mistook  the  word  and  wrote  it  "  nakit,^^  and  the  Latin 
Bays  Ego  nudata  sum,  and  the  Gaul  writes  Je  suis  touU 
nue,    I  am  naked  !  \ 

The  inhabitants  of  New  York  have  been  electrified  by  a 
statement  of  that  great  philosopher  and  clerk  of  the  wea- 
ther E.  Meriam,  that,  in  the  depth  of  the  winter  1856-7 
when  the  cold  was  32°  below  zero,  he  went  out  of  doors 
in  his  night  clothes  to  note  the  variations  of  the  tempera- 
ture.   But  what  is  this  to  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  who  could 

♦  It  la  first  in  Tytler,  ii.  875,  but  in  my  copy  of  Buchannan's  Detection,  Lo& 

ion,  1721,  it  is  t;econd.   Vid.  Detection,  136. 
t  Tytler,  L  1S3, 1S7-1S3. 


21C 


Mary,  Queen  of  Sootb. 


Bit  up  all  night  writing  love  letters,  stark  naked,  in  tht 
middle  of  a  Scotch  January. 

Dr.  Robertson  himself  after  a  hard  fight  confesses  the 
French  to  be  a  translation  from  the  Scottish.* 

On-3  other  point  about  this  letter.  "  I  will  finish  it "  says 
the  writer  to-morrow."  Mary  left  Edinburg  to  visit  her 
Eick  husband,  and  arrived  in  Glasgow  on  the  night  of  the 
23d.  Fact  says  she  passed  her  time  in  nursing  him.  Mur- 
ray and  Co.  say  she  passed  it  in  writing  this  long  letter  to 
Both  well.  "I  will  finish  to-morrow."  That  makes  it  the 
24th.  The  "  Confession  of  Paris,"  makes  that  lackey  say 
that  he  delivered  the  letter  to  Bothv/ell  in  Edinburg  on  the 
25th,  and  that  Bothwell  gave  him  an  answer  on  the  26th, 
after  dinner,  which  he  took  to  the  queen  at  Glasgow,  where 
he  could  not  arrive  before  the  27th.  But  Murray  in  his 
Journal  says  that  Bothwell  went  into  Liddesdale  on  the 
24th  and  did  not  return  until  the  28th,  giving  the  lie  direct 
to  Paris.  And  is  it  not  singular  that  the  queen  who 
parted  from  Bothwell  on  the  23d  should  be  so  ignorant  of 
her  accomplice's  movements  as  to  suppose  him  in  Edin- 
burg when  he  was  off  in  Liddesdale  ?  f 

What  does  Queen  Elizabeth  think  of  these  letters  f  That 
"there  had  been  nothing  suflSciently  produced,  nor  showu 
by  them  against  the  queen  their  sovereign,  whereby  she 
(Elizabeth)  could  conceive  or  take  any  ill  opinion  of  the 
|ueen  her  good  sister."J 

*  5ftrtter,  L  1S3,  IST-ISS.    Rcbertaon,  1pp.,  Dise.  on  King  Henry's  xdoHou 
t  Pytlsr,  1. 181.  X  Ibid.  IL  80S-4a(k 


The  Murder  of  Darnlet.  211 


Now  where  did  these  French  translations  from  the  Latin 
of  the  Scotch  come  from  ?  Lesly,  bishop  of  Ross,  a  cotem- 
porary  writer,  declares  that  several  persons  about  the  court 
could  counterfeit  Mary's  hand.  She  he^-self  says  "  there  are 
Jivers  in  Scotland,  both  men  and  women,  that  can  counter 
feit  my  handwriting,  and  write  the  like  manner  of  writing 
that  I  use  as  well  as  myself,  and  principally  them  that  are 
in  company  with  themselves^'**  Murray  and  Co. 

Let  us  look  a  little  closer.  A  cotemporary  author, 
Crawford,  in  his  Memoirs  says  "  It  was  notoriously  known 
that  (Maitland  of)  Lethington  has  often  copied  the  queen's 
hand."t 

Such  is  the  story  of  these  French  originals,  proved  to  b« 
translated  from  the  Scotch.  Growing  from  three  to  eighty 
and  thence  through  fifteen  months,  expanding  into  sonnets, 
marriage  contract,  etc :  vouched  for,  on  his  honor,  by  Mur- 
ray, who  proves,  by  his  journal,  that  the  only  direct  witness 
to  their  authenticity  is  a  liar :  utterly  unnatural  in  style, 
language  and  thought :  kept  from  Mary's  sight :  prophe- 
cied  by  Errol :  unused  for  six  months,  and  discredited  by 
Elizabeth.  Where  did  they  come  from  ?  From  the  braia 
>f  Buchannan  and  the  pen  of  Maitland. 

The  internal  evidence  that  they  are  by  the  author  of  the 
i  detection  is  almost  positive.    And  for  their  use  when 
printed,  let  Queen  Elizabeth  "our  dear  sister  and  cousin,*^ 
\e    virgin  queen,"  the  infanticide  and  murderess  of  hei 
•  Ubanofl;  U.  208.  t  Tyttor,  L  Kfl. 


212 


MarYj  Queen  of  Scots. 


lovers,  let  her  speak  to  her  ambassador  in  France : — "  It 
were  not  amiss  to  have  Jivers  of  Bnchannan's  little  Latin 
books,  to  present,  if  need  were,  to  the  king,  as  from  yourself, 
and  to  some  of  the  other  noblemen  of  his  council :  for  they 
will  serve  to  good  effect  to  disgrace  Aer."* 

As  for  George  Buchannan,  after  one  slight  tribute  to  hia 
memory,  I  have  done  with  him.  Bevill  Higgons  in  his 
•'Short  view  of  English  History,  London  1736,"  says  that 
he  recanted  all  he  had  written  against  Mary  on  his  death- 
bed. Camden,  in  his  annals  writes  "  that  he  wished  he 
might  have  wiped  out  all  he  writ  against  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots  with  his  blood."  He  cannot  do  that  now.  He  has 
gone  to  his  place. 

Gone  with  his  prostituted  genius,  varied  learning,  divine 
gift  of  poetry,  and  leaving  his  name  and  character  beLmd 
him.  Covered  with  wealth  and  honors,  his  toil  was  to 
impoverish  their  donor.  Trusted  by  an  almost  friendless 
woman,  he  was  proud  of  his  supereminence  in  treachery  to 
her.  Owing  her  his  life,  he  devoted  all  its  energies  to  the 
destruction  of  hers.  A  witness  of  her  dignified  purity,  he 
described  her  as  more  shameless  than  the  basest  prostitute. 
Kn  elegant  scholar,  he  ransacked  the  vocabulary  of  the 
brothel  for  language  to  clothe  his  calumnies.  He  sought 
to  be  unrivalled  in  baseness,  peerless  in  falsehood,  supreme 
in  ingratitude  and  in  all  he  succeeded.  An  encomiast 
without  sincerity,  a  religionist  without  charity,  a  reformei 

•  Tytl«r.  L  204. 


The  Murder  of  Darnley.  213 


irithout  principle,  a  historian  without  conscience.  He  had 
Napoleon's  ambition,  rendered  powerless  by  a  sneaking 
nature :  he  had  the  blood-thirst  of  a  Nero,  but  paralyzed 
by  cowardice.  A  traitor,  a  forger,  a  false  witness,  a  pol- 
troon, a  venal  writer,  a  malignant  ingrate.  Thus  before  the 
eyes  of  a  loathing  world,  shall  stand  the  caitiff  George 
Buchannan,  upon  a  pinacle  of  infamy,  loftily  inaccessible 
by  any  other,  even  the  boldest  of  historical  miscreants. 


Chapter  XIX 


Confession   of  Paris. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Nicholas  Hubert,  commonly 
called  French  Park,  was  a  servant  of  Both  well,  and  that  the 
latter  had  procured  him  the  place  of  valet  in  the  service  of 
Queen  Mary  sometime  before  the  murder  of  the  king.  He 
it  was  who  furnished  moulds  of  the  locks  by  which  the 
false  keys  were  made  which  gave  the  assassins  entrance  to 
the  house  of  Kirk  in  the  Fields. 

After  the  denouement  of  that  tragedy,  Paris  disappeared. 
Hay  of  Talla,  Hepburn,  Powrie  and  Dt^igleish,  were  tried 
for  the  crime,  found  guilty  and  handed.  Paris  disappeared 
and  was  not  again  heard  of  ufitil  August  of  1569  after 
Murray's  return  from  the  English  Conferences.  Baffled  in 
those,  he  made  a  final  attempt  to  blacken  the  character  of 
Lis  sister  and  queen,  by  another  forgery,  purporting  to  be 
the  dying  confession  of  this  wretched  lackey.  Now  for  the 
facts  of  the  case. 

This  unfortunate  man  was  not  publicly  tried,  as  Hay  and 


Confession  of  Paris. 


215 


Hopburn,  Powrie  and  Dalgleish  had  been ;  but  after,  we 
know  not  how  long  a  confinement  in  Murray's  citadel  of 
Bt.  Andrew's,  he  was  privately  tried  by  that  earl,  privately 
ijondemned  to  death,  without  witness,  or  recorded  pro- 
ceedings ;  his  very  existence  being  unknown  until  he  wai 
brought  out  for  execution  on  August  10th. 

Several  months  after,  a  paper  called  his  Confession  was 
ient  to  Cecil  by  Murray  after  the  conferences  were  over,  and 
thouirh  never  used  at  the  time,  has  since  served  as  evidence 
against  Mary  wherever  the  appetite  for  such  evidence  has 
been  stronger  than  good  taste  cr  sense  of  justice.  She  her- 
self never  saw,  nor  so  far  as  is  known,  even  heard  of  it 
durinjr  the  rest  of  her  mournful  life. 

There  are  two  papers  extant,  professing  to  be  the  con- 
fession of  this  man.  The  first  dated  August  9th,  and  signed 
**  N,"  accuses  Bothwell  of  the  murder  but  mentions  neither 
the  queen  nor  the  letters.  The  second,  dated  August  lOtb 
is  filled  with  praises  of  Murray,  direct  accusation  of  Mary, 
and  statements  of  the  manner  in  which  he,  Paris,  played 
the  postboy  between  her  and  Bothwell. 

The  first  of  these  confessions,  still  extant  in  the  Cotton 
library,  was  publicly  made  and  heard  by  many.  Bishop 
Lesly  says,  addressing  Murray,  "  As  for  him  whom  you 
surmise  was  the  bearer  of  the  letters,  and  whom  you  have 
executed  for  the  said  murder,  he,  at  the  time  of  his  said 
execution,  took  it  upon  bis  death,  as  he  should  answei 


216 


MarYj   Queen  of  Scots. 


befcre  God,  that  he  never  carried  any  suck  letters  nor  that 
the  queen  was  participant  nor  of  counsel  in  the  cause.'** 

So  thai  Bishop  Lesly,  who  wrote  months  after  the  death 
of  Paris,  and  who  peihaps  heard  his  first  confession,  had 
never  even  dreamed  of  the  existence  of  the  second.  In 
deed,  the  mere  fact  of  keeping  it  secret,  showed  that  Murray 
dared  not  publish  it  while  so  many  were  alive  in  Scotland 
who  had  witnessed  the  execution  and  heard  what  the  cri- 
minal really  did  confess. 

So  that  the  first  confession  had  many  witnesses  and  tha 
second  none.  The  first  was  public  in  August  1569,  and 
the  second  was  kept  secret  and  never  used  by  Murray  in 
support  of  his  accusation. 

Again.  Even  in  the  Detection  where  nothing  that  the 
bitter  malice  of  a  lost  soul  could  invent,  is  forgotten, 
even  there,  there  is  no  mention  made  of  this  document 
Buchannan  himself  was  ignorant  of  its  existence,  up  to 
1571  and  through  all  his  after  editions. 

Again.  Hay,  clerk  of  Murray's  secret  council,  who 
alone  attests  that  this  paper  came  before  the  council,  on 
the  10th  of  January,  writes  to  John  Knox  on  the  14th  of 
December,  nearly  a  whole  year  afterwards,  that  thoy, 
Murray  and  Co.,  "have  set  out  in  England  our  queen's  life 
and  process,  her  sonnetts  and  letters  to  Bothwell,  etc."  and 
th.at  "  they  leave  nothing  unset  out  tending  to  her  infamy. ''f 
Yet  he  never  mentions  this  confession  of  Pans. 

•  Tytler,  L  »7.  t  Ibid,  1.  300. 


Confession*'   of  Parib.  211 

Finally,  look  at  the  thing  itself.  Paris  is  made  to  say, 
That  the  first  time  he  entered  into  trust  or  credit  with 
the  queen  was  at  Kalendar  on  her  road  to  Glasgow,  where 
she  gave  him  a  purse  of  three  or  four  hundred  crowns  to 
deliver  to  Both  well."  Why  not  give  it  herself!  Both- 
well  was  with  her  then  and  there. 

He  is  made  to  say  that  the  queen  told  him,  a  menial 
servant,  that  "  the  king  desired  to  kiss  her  and  that  she 
refused  him  for  fear  of  his  malady.'' 

That  she  said  "Tell  Bothwell,  I  shall  not  go  near  the  king 
Jixcept  in  company  with  Lady  Reres,  who  shall  see  all  I  do." 

That,  as  he  was  making  the  queenh  bed,  he  said  to  hei; 
"Madam,  Monsieur  de  Bothwell  hath  commanded  me  U 
bnng  to  him  the  keys  of  your  chamber  as  he  wants  to  do 
something  there ;  that  is  to  blow  the  king  in  the  air  with 
oowder,  faire  sauter  le  Boy  en  Pair  par  pouldre^ 

That  Bothwell  told  him  that  "  Lady  Keres  walked  out 
avery  night,  to  meet  him  (Bothwell)  and  conduct  him  to 
*Jie  queen's  bedchamber,* 

Mary  Stuart  and  haughty  James  Hepburn  talking  in 
this  way  to  a  bed-making  valet.    Faugh ! 

The  forged  marriage  contract  was  never  produced  and 
eed  not  therefore  be  noticed. 

The  fact  of  her  marriage  with  Bothwell,  as  ex  post 
facto  testimony  against  her,  will  be  considered  and  replied 
to  by  the  true  history  of  that  occurrence. 


♦ljrtIer,L811-»13 
10 


218       Mart,  Queen  of  Scots. 

So  that  while  the  nature  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scote^  hei 
characteristics,  her  position,  the  facts  of  her  past  .ife,  the 
confessions  of  Hay,  Hepburn,  Dalgleish,  Powrie  and 
Paris,  and  that  of  Bothwell  himself  in  Denmark  ;*  the 
decision  of  Elizabeth  and  the  failure  of  Murray,  who  was 
allowed  to  urge  his  charge,  and  was  favored  by  Elizabeth, 
while  all  these  go  to  exonerate  the  queen,  her  adversaries 
can  bring  against  her  no  testimony  but  the  forged  letterti 
which  were  discredited  at  the  conference,  and  the  forged 
confession  of  Paris  which  was  unused  at  that  shameful  pei*- 
Mcution  of  Mary  of  Scotland. 


•  Aytooii'e  Bothwell,  259.   L&biuiofl;  Iv.  d4a 


Chapter  XX 


Who  were  the  Murderers? 

We  have  seen  that  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  was  accused 
before  Elizabeth's  commissioners,  and  that  certain  forged 
papers  were  presented  in  proof  of  her  guilt.  Also,  that 
although  prosecuted  by  her  bitterest  male  enemy,  and 
judged  by  her  bitterest  female  enemy,  the  former  was 
obliged  to  retire  baffled,  and  the  latter  pronounced  Mary 
Stuart  completely  guiltless,  not  having  found  so  much  aa 
"  cause  for  any  ill  opinion  of  our  good  sister 

It  is  strange  that  evidence  thrown  out  by  the  court  that 
tried  her,  and  tried  her  without  giving  her  that  just  liberty 
of  defence  which  is  the  right  even  of  the  meanest  crimi- 
nal, that  such  evidence  should  have  been  raked  from  the 
dust  to  which  it  was  deservedly  consigned,  and,  used  as  a 
weapon  in  polemic  debate,  should  have  satisfied  so  many 
that  she  was  guilty  whom  her  direst  foes  proclaimed  hei 
innocent. 

Mary  Queen  cf  Scots,  as  a  final  reason  for  her  inno- 


•  Trtter,  1 16L 


220       Mart,  Queen  of  S|cotb- 

cence,  was  guiltless  of  the  murder  of  Darnley,  because 
other  people,  without  her  knowledge,  contrived  and 
executed  that  foul  deed.  Jaraes  Earl  of  Murray,  backed 
by  Elizabeth  Queen  of  England,  the  Earl  of  Morton  and 
William  Maitland  laird  of  Lethington  were  the  authors  and 
doers  of  the  deed.  Their  instruments  were  Archibald 
Douglas  and  James  Hepburn  Earl  of  Both  well,  and  his  infe- 
rior tools  were  Hay  of  Talla,  John  Hepburn  of  Bow  ton, 
Powrie,  Dalgleish  and  French  Paris,  the  last  five  having 
confessed  and  been  hanged  for  the  crime. 

Queen  Mary  announced  the  truth  when  she  said  that 
they,  Murray,  Morton,  Maitland  etc.,  "  had  falsely,  traitor- 
ously and  meschantlie  lied ;  imputing  unto  her  the  crime 
whereof  themselves  were  authors,  inventors,  doers  and 
some  of  them  proper  executers."* 

Remember  Dr.  Robeitson's  ai-gument  against  Maiy. 
'*  She  killed  Darnley  because  she  hated  him,"  and  remem- 
ber in  the  same  argument  these  words — ^*The  king  was 
hated  by  Murray,  one  of  the  most  powerful  and  popular 
persons  in  his  country."!  Compare  the  queen's  character 
as  we  know  it,  with  Robertson's  character  of  Murray. 
After  praising  his  military  skill  he  sa3  8,  ^'His  moral  quali- 
ties are  more  dubious.  *  ♦  *  * 
His  ambition  was  immoderate,  and  events  happened  that 
opened  to  him  vast  projects  which  allured  his  enterprising 
geniufi  and  led  him  to  actions  inconsistent  with  the  duties 

^Labauoff.iLm  t  Robertson,  828. 


Who  were  the  Murderers?  221 


of  a  subject.  His  treatment  of  the  queeri,  to  whose 
bounty  he  was  so  much  indebted,  was  unbrotherly  and 
ungrateful.  The  dependence  upon  Elizaleth  under  which 
he  brought  Scotland  was  disgraceful  to  the  nation.  He 
deceived  and  betrayed  Norfolk  with  a  baseness  unworthy 
of  a  man  of  honor.  His  elevation  to  such  a  dignity 
inspired  him  with  new  passions,  with  haughtiness  and 
reserve;  and  instead  of  his  natural  manner  which  waa 
blunt  and  open,  he  aflfected  the  arts  of  dissimulation  and 
refinement."* 

Now,  of  these  two  characters,  which  was  the  more  likely 
to  "  kill  because  he  hated  ?"  Add  to  this,  that  one  was  a 
delicate  woman,  the  other  an  ambitious  soldier.  One  had 
nothing  to  gain  and  all  to  lose ;  the  other  had  the  object 
of  his  desire  from  early  youth  to  obtain,  the  throne  of 
Scotland ;  if  not  as  king,  at  least  as  Regent. 

Murray  was  guilty,  because  he,  Morton  and  Maitland 
had  always  worked  together,  and  it  is  improbable  that  this 
occasion  was  an  exception  to  the  rule,  inasmuch  as  he  wat 
Ihe  only  one  of  the  three  who  could  profit  by  the  king*g 
death. 

He  was  guilty  because  he  courted  the  throne.  At  the 
death  of  Mary  of  Lorraine,  he  found  himself  at  the  head 
of  the  Congregation  in  Scotland.  About  this  time,  July 
25,  1559,  Throckmorton  writes  to  Cecil: — "There  is  a 
party  in  Scotland  for  placing  the  Prior  f>f  St.  Andrew*8  in 

•  Robertson,  204* 


222 


Maet,  Queen   df  Scots 


the  state  of  ScotlaHd,  and  the  prior  himself  by  all  the  secret 
raeans  he  can,  aspires  thereto."  Again,  Queen  Elizabeth 
to  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury : — "  Before  the  treaty  of  Edin- 
burg  there  was  an  intent  discovered  to  us,  by  Maitland,  to 
deprive  her  (Queen  Mary)  of  her  crown,  which  we  utterly 
rejected."  Again.  Nineteen  lords,  eight  bishops  and  eight 
abbots  write  to  Mary's  commissioners,  September  12, 
1668  : — "  Shortly  after  our  queen's  home-coming  from  the 
realm  of  France  to  Scotland,  the  Earl  of  Murray  had 
respect  then,  and  as  appears  yet,  by  his  proceedings,  to 
place  himself  in  the  government  of  this  realm  and  to  usurp 
the  kingdom."*  Again.  He  betrayed  his  sister's  time  of 
departure  from  France  to  Elizabeth,f  and  exhorted  her  to 
Bend  out  a  fleet  to  intercept  Mary,  which  was  done.  Again. 
Randolpli  Elizabeth's  ambassador-spy  in  Scotland,  writes  :— 
"I  have  shown  your  honor's  letter  to  the  Lord  James, Lord 
Morton  and  Maitland.  They  wish,  as  your  honor  doth, 
that  she,  Mary,  might  be  stayed  yet  for  a  space,  and  were 
it  not  for  their  obedience  sake  some  of  them  care  not 
though  they  never  saw  her  foA:ey\  Finally,  to  use  an  ex  post 
facto  argument,  after  the  manner  of  Dr.  Robertson,  he  did 
dethrone  his  sister,  and  he  did  seize  the  throne  as  Regent. 

He  was  guilty  because  he  hated  Dainley,  opposed  hii 
marriage  and  always  refused  to  sign  his  consent  to 
it  in  spite  of  the  prayers  and  entreaties  of  the  queen. 
Because  he  headed  a  plot  to  seize  her  and  Darnley 

•lyUer,L85^  tSespagenL  |6etp«c«7QL 


Who  were  the  Mdrderers?  223 


wi  the  first  of  July,  1565;  to  impriscii  her  and  to  mur* 
der  him.  ^^God  must  find  him  [Darnley)  a  short  endP 
*'My  lord  of  Murray  feareth  that  the  nobility  shall  be 
forced  to  assemble  themselves  together,**  to  prevent  this 
marriage. — Randolph  to  Cecil,  July  2,  1559.*  And  again, 
September,  3,  1565,  "  Divers  of  the  other  side  are  appointed 
to  set  upon  the  queen's  husband  and  either  kill  him  or  die 
themsdves."  And  finally  the  declaration  of  the  majority 
of  the  Scots  nobles,  who  had  joined  Murray  in  his  first 
plot,  but  on  his  flight  into  England  had  submitted  and 
been  pardoned  by  forgiving  Mary,  among  whom  are  Lorda 
Argyle,  Rothes,  Boyd,  etc. — says  that  Murray,  at  this 
time,  conspired  the  slaughter  of  the  Lord  Darnley  and 
to  have  imprisoned  her  highness  in  Lochleven  and  usurped 
the  government"! 

He  was  guilty  because  he  contrived  the  murder  of  Riccio, 
the  object  of  which  was  to  disgust  the  queen  with  Darnley 
and  to  deprive  her  of  a  valuable  and  faithful  servant. 

He  was  guilty  because  he  urged  the  divorce,  and  pressed 
Mary  "  to  get  rid  "  of  Darnley  \\  because  he  assisted  at  the 
Craigmillar  and  Whittinghame  plots,  and  was  avowedly 
willing,  at  l^ast  "  to  stand  by  and  look  through  his  fingers,^ 
it  the  murder :  becaused  he  used  forged  evidence  against 
tho  queen :  because  he  procured  the  acquittal  of  his  instru- 
ment Bothwell :  and  because  he  urged  and  helped  to  bring 
about  that  earl's  marriage  with  the  queen. 

•  Tytler,  L  872.  t  Ibid.  U  STT.  %  Ibid.  IL  SU. 


224        Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 

He  is  guilty  because  he  is  directly  charged  with  the  guilt 
by  the  Earls  of  Argyle  and  Huntley,  in  their  protestation 
Bent  to  England  in  1568,  "We  judge  in  our  conscience  and 
hold  it  for  certain  and  truth  that  the  said  Earl  of  Murray 
and  Secretary  Lethington,  were  authors,  inventors,  devisers, 
councillors  and  accusers  of  the  said  murder,  in  what 
manner  and  by  whatsomever  persons  the  same  was  exe- 
cuted."* 

Finally  he  is  guilty  because  on  his  journey  into  Fifeshire, 
while  passing  the  House  of  Kirk  in  the  Fields,  the  day  before 
the  murder,  he  cried  out  with  exultation,  "This  night  ere 
morning,  shall  Lord  Darnley  lose  his  life  !"f 

So  that  the  accusations  of  the  queen,  of  Huntley,  Argyle 
and  others,  as  to  Murray's  guilt  are  true.  Because,  he 
aspired  steadfastly  to  the  throne :  tried  to  deliver  his  sister 
into  the  hands  of  Elizabeth ;  did  finally  accomplish  that 
purpose  and  make  himself  Regent.  Because,  he  was  as  one 
with  Morton  and  Maitland  whose  guilt  is  clear,  and  because 
he  hated  Darnley,  twice  sought  his  life,  prophesied  his 
death,  instigated  Bothwell  to  the  deed  and  protected  him 
after  its  accomplishment. 

So  much  for  the  guilt  of  the  "  godly  Regent." 

Whatsoever  nas  been  said  of  Murray,  in  these  premises, 
ie  true  also  of  his  associate,  James,  Earl  of  Morton.  Besides 
which,  after  a  long  course  of  crime,  he  was  brought  to  trial 
before  his  peers  on  the  first  of  June,  1581,  the  EarJ  ot 

•  Ay^oun^s  Bothwell,  216.  t  Tytier,  fi.  8L 


Who  were  the  Murderers?  225 


Montrose  sitting  as  Lord  Higli  Chancellor,  and  was  by 
them  found  guilty  art  and  part,  in  the  foreknowledge  and 
concealing  of  the  king's  murder.*  Sir  James  Balfour  tes- 
tified to  the  famous  bond,f  and  Binning,  a  servant  of 
Morton's  tool,  Archibald  Douglas,  confessed  his  own  guilt 
and  his  employer's.  Morton  was  executed  on  the  2nd 
of  June,  1581,  after  confessing  that  he  kneto  beforehand 
of  the  murderous  plot.  Finally  the  lords  found  their  ver- 
dict on  "writings  subscribed  by  his  own  hand,"  and  the  tes- 
timony of  persons  who  were  actors  in  that  horrible  scene."J 
"What  is  true  of  Murray  and  Morton  is  true  of  Maitland 
who  indeed  was  the  active  and  wily  agent  of  the  former. 
He  was  directly  accused  by  Morton  and  Crawford  of  the 
murder  of  the  king  Henry  Darnley,  for  that  crime  was 
tried  May  14th,  1571,  and  of  it  convicted.§  He  made  his 
escape,  and  after  several  turns  of  fortune,  died  self-poisoned 
in  prison,  October  28th,  1572.  He  only  of  this  horria 
triumvirate  was  moved  by  remorse.  He  appeared  to  feel 
Bome  sorrow  after  his  wiles  had  resulted  in  Mary's  over- 
throw,  and  spoke  of  her  as  "  a  princess,  so  gentle  and  benign 
in  her  behaviour  to  all  her  subjects,  that  w^onder  it  was 
that  any  could  be  found  so  ungracious  as  to  think  eviJ 
against  her."|| 

Both  well  confessed  his  guilt,  as  did  his  assistants  whc 
were  executed  for  the  crime. 

•  Tytler,  il  264.  t  Vide  p  1T«. 

X  Wat,  ii  876,  266.  %  Ohalmers,  U.  874.  |  Tytler,  U.  SML 

10* 


226       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

The  complicity  of  Elizabeth  is  proven  by  her  constAntlj 
preserved  understanding  with  Murray,  Morton  and  Mait* 
land,  by  her  protection  of  the  two  former,  by  the  manner 
in  which  she  caused  the  conferences  to  be  conducted,  and 
by  her  unscrupulous  injustice  and  persistent  diabolic  cruelty 
to  her  unfortunate  victim.  This  has  been  and  will  be 
detailed  in  the  course  of  this  narrative. 


Thus  then,  with  much  labor,  with  fixed  adrerseness  to 
prejudice,  and  with  what  skill  has  been  given  to  me,  I 
have  written  the  history  of  Henry  Darnley's  assassination 
and  the  argument  in  favor  of  Mary  Stuart  and  against  her 
brother  and  his  associates. 

There  is  yet  one  point  which  goes  to  show  that  others 
than  Bothwell  were  guilty  of  the  actual  murder.  That 
noble,  as  we  have  seen,  had  proposed  that  each  of  the 
conspirators  should  furnish  two  armed  men,  to  watch  the 
king  and  kill  him  if  possible  while  hunting.  Bothwell,  we 
know,  had  his  men  arnaed  and  on  the  alert  until  the  Yth 
of  February,  when  for  the  first  time  the  plan  of  blowing 
up  by  powder  was  suggested  to  him,  and  acquiesced  in  by 
him.  But  the  king  was  not  blown  up.  He  could  not 
have  been  blown  off  eighty  yards  with  his  servant,  furred 
pelisse  and  slippers,  yet  have  neither  bruise  nor  singe  upon 
his  body  or  garments.    Mr,  Aytoun*  has  consulted  several 

^  Read  the  whole  note,  Aytoun's  BothweU. 


Who  were  the  Murderers?  227 


engineers,  and  they  state  that  the  pcwder  as  placed  and 
fired  by  Bothwell  and  his  men,  could  not  have  destroyed 
the  house  as  it  was  destroyed.  The  very  cellars  and 
vaults  were  blown  up,  and  .therefore  the  house  was  mined 
far  lower  down  than  the  first  story.  Mines  always  explode 
upward. 

Morton's  indictment  reads  that  he  and  his  accom 
plices  put  powder  "  under  the  ground  and  angular  stands, 
and  within  the  vaults,  low  and  back  parts  and  places 
thereof." 

The  house  of  Kirk  in  the  Fields  belonged  to  Robert  Bal- 
four, brother  to  the  Sir  James  Balfour  who  drew  up  the 
bond  for  the  king's  death,  and  who  was  a  creature  of  Mait- 
land.  It  is  proved  that  both  Sir  James  Balfour  and  Archi 
bald  Douglas  sent  powder  for  the  purpose,  and  as  we  have 
seen,  Morton  was  indicted  for  the  same  act. 

Now  Archibald  Douglas,  on  the  dying  testimony  of  his 
servants  Binning  and  Gairner,  in  which  they  confess  their 
own  guilt,  is  proved  to  have  gone  out  armed,  with  slippers 
on  his  feet,  and  a  slipper  known  to  be  his  was  found  ammg 
the  ruins,  Powrie  in  his  confession  says  that  a  party  of 
men  "  met  Bothwell  at  the  Cowgate  with  cloaks  over  their 
fnoes  and  slippers  on  their  feet."* 

The  papal  nuncio,  Archbishop  of  Mondovi,  writes  to  the 
Grand  Duke  of  Tus<^any  information  received  from  Moretta, 


•  Strickland,  ViM. 


228 


Mabt,  Queen  of  Scots. 


Savoyard  ambassador  at  Edinburg  at  the  time,  who  ii 
of  opinion  that  "this  poor  prince,  Darnloy,  hearing  tb« 
noise  of  people  about  the  house  trying  false  keys  tc 
open  the  outlets,  rushed  forth  himself  by  a  door  tha 
opened  into  the  gardens,  in  his  shirt,  without  a  pelisse 
to  fly  from  the  peril,  and  was  there  strangled,  and  waa 
brought  out  of  the  garden  into  a  little  orchard  beyond  the 
wall  of  the  grounds:  and  then  the  fire  blew  up  the  house 
to  slay  all  that  were  within  as  they  conjecture,  because 
the  king  was  found  dead,  with  his  pelisse  by  his  side; 
and  some  women  whose  sleeping-rooms  adjoined  the 
garden,  affirm  to  have  heard  the  king  cry  "  Ah,  my  kins- 
men, have  mercy  upon  me,  for  the  love  of  Him  who  had 
mercy  on  us  all  !"*  ^Eh!  Fratelli  miei,  kabbiate  pietd  di 
me  per  amor  di  Colui  che  hehhe  misericordia  di  tut  to  il 
mondo  /" 

Now  Archibald  Douglas  was  a  blood  kinsman,  Fratello, 
of  Henry  Darnley.  And  Morton  says  on  his  trial, "  Mr. 
Archibald  then  after  the  deed  was  done,  shewed  me  that 
he  was  at  the  deed-doing."f 

•  Now  mark  the  consequences  of  all  this.  The  king  was 
Lot  blown  up.  Both  well  did  nothing  hit  cause  the  explo- 
Bion ;  consequently  Bothwell,  although  willing  to  murder 
the  king,  did  not  actually  do  it  Consequently  in  act  he  ia 
innocent  of  it.    But  Balfour  and  Douglas  both  sent  pow. 

•  L&banotr,  vlL  loa  t  Strickland,  r.  157. 


Who  were  the  Murderers?  229 


der,  and  Douglas  was  at  the  doing  of  the  deed.  But  both 
these  iLen  were  dependents  confessed  of  Morton  and  Mait- 
land,  and  therefore  these  were  guilty  of  the  king's  murder 
and  if  guilty  no  other  person  was,  least  of  all,  Mary. 


Chapter  XXI. 

The  Game  Advances. 
1567. 

BoTHWELL  had  received  his  mock  trial  and  had  been 
acquitted.  Guilty  in  soul  and  intention,  he  was  still  not 
guilty  in  deed  of  the  king^s  murder.  But  his  astute 
employers  desired  to  fix  upon  him  the  stigma  of  the  act 
itself,  and  eventually  he  bore  it.  The  poor  bear,  used  by 
foxes  and  serpents  for  their  own  wily  purposes.  Lured  on 
to  take  the  credit  of  the  explosion  of  Kirk  in  the  Fields, 
and  to  fancy,  inane  that  he  was,  that  his  poor  powder 
strewed  about  the  floor  of  the  queen's  chamber  had  dislo- 
cated the  foundations  twenty-eight  feet  below.  Lured  on  to 
think  that  he  had  killed  the  king,  and  to  be  prosecuted  for 
it  by  his  employers,  and  to  die  for  it,  mad-raving,  covered 
and  begrimed  with  filth,  howling  out  his  grim,  gaunt  soul 
in  the  dark,  black  dungeons  of  Malmoe. 

But  after  a  glance  at  the  circumstances  immediately 
following  the  king's  murder,  and  not  as  yet  noticed  here, 


The  Game  Advances. 


231 


we  musk  find  our  waj  back  U  Both  well,  through  the  tor 
birous  intricacies  of  the  "godly  Regent's"  deeds. 

Mary  retired  to  Seton  with  her  court  upon  the  9th  of 
March,  and  theie  sought,  from  devotion,  the  help  that  she 
could  derive  from  no  other  source.  Poor  woman  !  not  yet 
twenty-five  years  old,  betrayed  by  her  people,  twice  a 
widow  and  without  a  friend.  Anonymous  placards  were 
put  up  charging  her  with  complicity  in  her  husband's 
murder;  the  fishwives  of  Edinburg  called  out,  as  she 
passed,  "God  save  and  defend  your  grace  if  you  are 
guiltless  of  the  king's  death."  Murray,  her  brother, 
refused  to  remain  and  help  her  in  spite  of  her  entreaty  and 
passionate  weeping.  Archbishop  Beton  writes: — "There 
is  still  some  notable  enterprize  in  hand  against  her,  whereof 
I  wish  her  to  beware  in  time."  The  memories  of  Riccio's 
death  and  the  red  blood  spouting  on  her  garments  were 
with  her ;  in  her  ears  still  rung  the  sound  of  that  reverbe- 
rating roar  which  told  to  shuddering  Scotland  that  the 
king  was  dead  :  the  horizon  swam  in  blood,  clouded  with 
sulphurous  mists  from  bursting  mines  of  powder.  She 
had  been  forced  by  fear  for  her  infant's  life  to  send  him 
from  her  to  the  strong  castle  of  Stirling;  her  guards  had 
mutinied  foi  pay  and  she  was  too  poor  to  satisfy  them ! 

What  wonder  that  the  English  spy  Drury  writes  to 
Cecil : — "  She  hath  been  for  the  most  part  either  melan- 
choly or  sickly  since  the  murder,  especially  this  week,  she 
ofteD  swooned.    There  will  be  hard  work  to  furnish  money 


232       Mart,  Queen  of  Scots. 

for  domestic  matters.  She  breaketh  very  much."*  What 
could  she  do  but  go  and  fling  herself,  as  he  records,  on  the 
pavement  before  the  altar  of  God,  in  the  chapel  at  Seton, 
and  there  pour  out  her  prayers  for  her  dead  husband's  rest 
and  for  her  own  relief,  all  through  the  lone  watches  of  the 
winter  midnight  and  of  the  chill  grey  winter  morning 
**The  queen  went  on  Friday  night,"  says  Drury,  "with  two 
gentlewomen  with  her  into  the  chapel  about  eleven  and 
tarried  there  till  nearly  three  o'clock."f 

But  Buchannan,  whose  memory  is  immortally  infamous, 
writes  thus  of  her  while  at  Seton  : — "  BothwelPs  apart 
roent  was  a  place  not  altogether  unfit  to  asswage  their 
sorrows,  for  it  was  directly  under  the  queen's  chamber; 
and  if  any  sudden  qualm  of  grief  should  have  happened  to 
come  over  her  heart,  there  was  a  pair  of  stairs  wide 
enough  for  Both  well  to  get  up  to  comfort  Aer."J 

From  George  Buchannan  to  James,  Earl  of  Murray,  is  a 
natural  step  in  tracing  this  road  of  abominations. 

The  day  before  the  king's  assassination,  the  earl  having 
seen  that  his  plans  were  not  likely  to  fail,  took  himself 
away  according  to  his  usual  custom.  He  ever  loved  to 
prove  an  alihi.  But  this  time  he  somewhat  forgot  hir 
natural  astuteness  in  the  demoniac  joy  arising  from  his  cer- 
tamty  of  success,  and,  as  he  crossed  the  Fv^rth  on  the  way 
to  his  strong  citidel  of  St.  Andrew's,  he  burst  out  to  his 
Berrants,  "This  night,  ere  morning,  Lord  Darnley  shall  Jo«a 

•  Strickland,  v.  Ibid.  t.  204.         X  Det  action. 


The  Game  Advances.  233 


his  life."*  Was  this  the  espirit  of  sacred  prophecy  Rud 
denly  bestowed  upon  the  godly  earl  ?"  or  was  it  rather 
the  expression  of  his  absolute  assurance  that  his  plot  was 
too  well  formed  to  fail  ?  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  brave  and 
noble  Lord  Herrios  charged  him  with  it  bluntly  at  his  own 
table,  and  grim  silence  was  his  only  reply. 

The  explosion  over,  the  alibi  established,  he  returns 
again  to  Edinburg.  Not  to  assist  his  queenly  sister, 
although  besought  with  tears  to  do  so,  but  to  finish  hih 
work  in  his  own  wily  way, 

Mary  writes  three  several  times  to  Lennox,  to  urge  his 
action  in  the  prosecution  of  his  son's  murderers,  and, 
though  he  replies  in  willing  words,  he  acts  but  feebly.  At 
length,  however,  James  Hepburn,  Earl  of  Both  well,  is  for- 
mally accused  and  a  day  set  for  trial,  April  11th.  This 
done,  Earl  Murray  returns  to  his  place  at  the  council 
board.  Before  the  time  arrives  however,  he  invites  Both- 
well  with  Maitland  and  others  to  dine  with  him,  to 
meet  the  English  Ambassador  Killegrew,f  and  exhibits 
eyeiy  external  mark  of  friendship  for  him.  By  the  9th  of 
April,  he  has  the  court  prepared,  and  then  he  retires  first  to 
Berwick-on-Tweed,  then  to  the  English  court  and  his  dear 
friend  Ehzabeth,  and  finally  to  France.  In  that  realm,  he 
BO  concerts  with  the  Huguenots  and  Catherine  de  Medicis, 
that  all  French  aid  to  Mary  is  effectually  prohibited.!  So 
the  trial  of  Earl  Both  well  proceeds,  of  course  without  Mur 

•  Tytler,  li  9L  t  Strickland,  v.  193.  t  ^^^^  V'  2«». 


234       Mary,  Queen  of  Sooxsr 

ray's  knowledge,  for  was  not  that  good  noblenian  in  Eng 
land  or  in  France ! 

April  11th,  1567;  Lord  Lennox  refused  to  enter  Edin- 
burg  because  he  feared  the  power  of  Both  well ;  the  latter 
went  boldly  before  the  court,  heard  his  arraignment,  pleaded 
aot  guilty,  and  was  solemnly  acquitted. 

The  cour*  was  composed  as  follows: — Earl  of  Argyle, 
President.  Associates,  Lord  Lindsay^  whom  we  first  saw 
raging  through  the  streets  on  the  first  Sunday  of  the 
queen's  arrival,  with  drawn  sword,  threatening  her 
"idolater  priest"  with  death;  whom  we  next  beheld 
plunging  his  dagger  into  the  shrinking  body  of  Riccio, 
whom  we  shall  soon  see  crushinof  the  white  arm  of  his 
imprisoned  mistress  in  his  fierce  gauntleted  gripe.  Robert 
Pitcaim  Protestant  Abbot  of  Dumferline ;  and  McGill  and 
Balnaves,  lords  of  session. 

These  men  were  simply  the  absolute  tools  of  Murray. 
Now,  their  business  was  to  acquit  Bothwell,  upon  their 
honors,  of  the  murder  of  the  king.  Soon  after,  the  busi- 
ness of  the  same  hur  men,  with  the  noble  addition  of 
George  Buchannan,  was  to  accuse  Bothwell,  always  on 
their  honors,  of  the  murder  of  the  king.  They  did  botk 
according  to  the  directions  of  their  master. 

A  decree  of  parliament  was  easily  obtained  the  next 
day,  declaring  the  judgment  good  and  Bothwell  guiltless 
of  this  crime  at  least.  That  generous  nobleman  could  oi 
course  do  no  less  than  celebrate  his  triumph  by  a  feast  at 


The  Game  Advances 


235 


Ainslie^s  Tavern,  whereto  all  the  good  gentleraen  his 
friends  were  invited.  He  gave  them,  doubtless,  a  fine 
spread ;  they  confess  to  abundance  of  rich  wines,  and  they 
all  drank  freely  and  were  grateful  to  their  hospitable  enter- 
tainer. So  grateful  indeed  were  they,  that  they  gave  him 
a  document,  unto  the  following  remarkable  extracts  from 
which  I  most  earnestly  entreat  my  readers'  particular 
attention.  The  entire  paper  will  be  found  in  the  notes  to 
Aytoun's  Bothwell.    It  sets  forth — 

"  That  he,  Bothwell,  has  omitted  nothing  for  the  perfect 
trial  of  his  accusation,  that  anv  nobleman  of  honor,  or  bv 
the  laws,  ought  to  underlie  or  accomplish." 

Then  his  services  are  rehearsed  and  praised,  and  the 
bond  continues. 

"We  therefore  oblige  us,  and  each  one  of  us,  upon  our 
Faith  and  Honors,  and  Truth  in  our  bodies,  as  we  are 
Xoblemen,  and  will  answer  to  God,  that  in  case  hereafter 
any  manner  of  person  or  persons,  in  whatsoever  manner, 
shall  happen  to  insist  further  to  the  slander  and  calumnio' 
tion  of  the  said  Earl  of  Bothwell,  as  participant,  Art  or 
Part,  of  the  said  heinous  murder,  whereof  ordinary  Justice 
has  acquitted  him,  and  for  which  he  has  offered  to  do  hia 
Devoir  by  the  Law  of  Arms  in  manner  above  rehearsed ; 
we,  and  every  one  of  us,  by  ourselves,  our  kin,  friends, 
assisters,  partakers,  and  all  that  will  do  for  us,  shall  take 
true,  honest,  plain  and  upright  Part  with  him,  to  the 
Defence  and  Maintenance  of  his  Quarrel,  with  our  bodieaj 


236        Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 

heritage,  and  goods,  against  his  private  or  public  calumnia- 
tors, byepast  or  to  come,  or  any  others  presuming  anything 
in  Word  or  Deed  to  his  Keproach,  Dishonour,  or  Infamy, 
Moreover,  weighing  and  considering  the  time  present,  and 
how  our  Sovereign  the  Queen's  Majesty  is  now  destitute 
f  a  Husband,  in  the  which  solitary  state  the  Common- 
weal of  this  Realme  may  not  permit  her  Highness  to 
continue  and  endure,  but  at  some  time  her  Highness 
in  appearance  may  be  inclined  to  yield  into  a  Marriage ; 
and  therefore,  in  case  the  former  affectionate  and  hearty 
seiTice  of  the  said  Earl  done  to  her  Majesty  from  time  to 
time,  and  his  other  good  Qualities  and  Behaviour,  may 
move  her  Majesty  so  far  to  humble  herself,  as,  preferring 
one  of  her  native  born  subjects  unto  all  foreign  Princes, 
to  take  to  Husband  the  said  Earl,  We  and  every  one  of  ua 
undersubscribing,  upon  our  Honours,  and  Fidelity,  oblige 
us  and  promise,  not  only  to  further^  advance^  and  set 
forward  the  Marriage  to  be  solemnised  and  completed 
betwixt  her  Highness  and  the  said  Noble  Lord,  with 
our  Votes,  Counsel,  Fortification,  and  Assistance  in  Word 
and  Deed,  at  such  time  as  it  shall  please  her  Majesty 
to  think  i*:  convenient,  and  how  soon  the  Laws  shall  leave 
it  to  be  done ;  but  in  case  any  should  presume  directly 
or  indirectly,  openly,  or  under  whatsoever  Colour  or  Pre- 
tence, to  hinder,  hold  back,  or  disturb  the  said  Marriage, 
we  shall,  in  that  behalf,  esteem,  hold,  and  repute  the 
Hinderers,  Adversaries,  or  Disturbers  thereof,  as  our  com- 


The  Game   Advances.  237 


mon  Enemies  and  evil  Willers;  and  notwithstanding  the 
tame,  take  part  and  fortify  the  said  Earl  to  the  said  Mar- 
riage, so  far  as  it  may  please  our  Sovereio^n  L..dy  to  allow 
and  therein  shall  spend  and  bestow  oui  Lives  and  Goods 
against  all  that  live  or  die  may,  as  we  shall  answer  to  God, 
and  upon  our  own  Fidelities  and  Conscience  ;  and  in  case 
we  do  to  the  contrary,  never  to  have  Reputation  or  Credit 
in  no  Time  hereafter,  but  to  be  accounted  unworthy  and 
faithless  traitors.  In  Witness  whereof,  we  have  subscribed 
these  presents,  as  follows,  at  Edinburgh,  the  19th  day  of 
April,  the  year  of  God  1567  years." 

Signed  by  nine  earls  and  eleven  barons. 

The  first  name  on  the  list  of  signers  is  that  of  James, 
Earl  of  Murray. 

The  authenticity  of  Murray's  signature,  as  well  as  that  of 
the  so-called  consent  of  the  queen,  will  be  discussed  in  the 
next  chapter. 

The  bond  was  given  to  Both  well  on  the  19th  of  April, 
1567,  and  thus  fortified,  he  gave  full  freedom  to  the  dreams 
of  his  ambition.  The  queen  was  at  Seton  on  the  19th, 
where,  as  we  have  already  mentioned,  her  guards  mutinied 
for  pay  and  were  satisfied  by  Bothwell,  April  20th.  On 
the  2nd,  she  set  out  for  Stirling  to  see  her  son ;  and  even 
this  was  destined  to  add  a  new  pang  to  her  already  ahnost 
intolerable  sufferings.  When  she  advanced  to  meet  the 
infant,  he  did  not  know  her,  but  turned  away  frightened 
and  crying,  to  hide  his  face  in  his  nurse's  bosom.  The 


238       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

poor  mother  took  an  apple  from  her  pocket  and  died  to 
allure  her  babe ;  but  when  he  saw  the  tall  figure,  the  pal- 
lid, sad,  emaciated  face,  all  wrapped  in  gloomy  folds  of 
black  funereal  crape,  he  would  not  come  to  her  and  it  took 
Bome  time  to  reconcile  him.  Is  not  this  scene  mournful 
enough  to  touch  any  human  heart?  See  how  it  touches 
Drury,  Elizabeth's  base  spy.  He  says  that  she  attempted, 
thus  openly,  to  poison  her  only  child ! 

"  She  took  an  apple  out  of  her  pocket  and  offered  it,  but 
it  would  not  be  received  of  him;  but  the  nurse  took  it, 
and  to  a  greyhound  bitch,  having  whelps,  was  it  thrown. 
She  ate  it ;  she  and  her  whelps  died  presently ^"^^ 

Now  look  upon  this  picture  and  on  that !  The  crape- 
enshrouded  widow  trying  to  woo  the  caresses  of  her  pee'vish 
infant.  Or  if  you  like  it  better,  the  fierce  Medea,  after  a 
journey  of  thirty-one  miles,  trying  publicly  to  poison  he" 
baby  with  the  picturesque  adjunct  of  a  hdy  -  grey  houn  I 
fating  an  apple  ! 

After  reducing  the  mutinous  guaids,  Bothwell,  strong  as 
Shylock  in  his  bond,  faintly  suggested  marriage  to  the 
queen ;  and  his  suggestion  was  repulsed.  He  therefore  fell 
back  upon  his  old  plans,  and  put  them  into  execution. 

What  he  did  was  beforehand  known  to  and  approved 
by  "our  loving  sister  And  cousin,"  "good  Queen  Bess.^'f 
Drury  writes,  "  the  Earl  Bothwell  hath  gathered  many 


•  StiiekUmd,  ?.  884 


t  iMd.  ?.  m. 


The  Game  Advancjes.  239 

of  Lis  friends  very  well  provided,  same  say  to  ride  intd 
Liddesdale,  but  there  is  feared  some  other  purpose 
wliich  he  intendetb  rxiuch  ditferent  from  that,  of  the 
which  I  believe  I  shortly  shall  he  able  to  advertise  more 
tertainly.  He  hath  furnished  Dunbar  Castle  with  all 
necessary  provisions,  as  well  of  victuals  as  other  thing 
forcible." 

So  on  the  morning  of  April  23d,  Mary  Stuart  lett  hei 
boy  and  her  royal  castle  of  Stirling,  never  to  see  either 
again.  She  had  gone  but  four  miles  when  she  was  taken 
suddenly  ill,  perhaps  with  one  of  those  swoons  recorded  by 
Drury,  and  was  obliged  to  rest  some  time  in  a  cottage  by 
the  roadside  ere  she  was  able  to  resume  her  saddle.  She 
reached  Linlithgow,  v/here  she  slept,  and  in  the  morning 
proceeded  towards  Edinburg.  Her  retinue  was  composed 
of  a  dozen  persons  only. 

They  had  nearly  reached  Edinburg,  indeed  were  within 
a  mile  of  it,  in  a  sort  of  suburb  called  Foulbriggs,  when 
Both  well  met  her  at  the  head  of  one  thousand  horsemen* 
Without  a  word,  he  and  his  men  swept  upon  the  little 
troop,  overpowered  and  disarmed  them,  and  the  ruffian  earl 
himself,  seizLig  Queen  Mary's  bridle  rein,  turned  her  palfrey 
and  galloped  rapidly  to  his  previously  fortified  and  pro- 
visioned castle  of  Dunbar.  With  her,  Huntley,  Maitland 
and  Sir  James  Melville  were  made  prisoners.  As  Bothweil 
?aught  the  rein,  he  told  her  quickly  that  she  was  in  immv 


240       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

nent  danger,  and  besought  lier  for  her  own  sake  to  permit 
him  to  guide  her  to  some  strong  post  in  his  power.* 

Then  after  a  ride  of  thirty-one  miles  to  Stirling,  a  night 
devoted  to  her  boy  and  to  what  poor  rest  her  grief  per- 
mitted her  ;  after  fainting  by  the  roadside  and  reposing,  if 
she  could,  at  Linlithgow,  she  was  compelled  by  this  brutal 
soldier  to  ride  more  than  thirty  miles  asfain  to  the  bleak 
north  sea  coast. 

His  troops  were  dismissed  by  Both  well,  with  orders  to 
hold  themselves  in  readiness  for  any  emergency,  and  a 
boast  from  him  that  he  would  marry  the  queen  in  spite  of 
all  the  world — "yea,  whether  she  would  herself  or  no/."f 

All  the  queen's  ladies  were  dismissed  and  no  attendance 
allowed  her  save  that  of  Lady  Cunningham,  sister  of  her 
ravisher.  No  effort  was  made  to  rescue  her  by  the  nobles, 
even  by  the  friends  and  party  of  her  own  brother,  but  the 
people  of  the  city  rose  in  a  body  and  would  have  followed 
her  and  stormed  Dunbar,  had  not  the  conspirators  caused 
the  gates  to  be  closed  and  the  guns  of  the  castle  to  ba 
pointed  on  the  town. 

Powerless,  friendless,  unattended,  Mary  remained  twelve 
days  a  captive  in  Dunbar,  while  the  plot  for  her  dethrone* 
ment  and  destruction  went  on  towards  its  successful  denouei 
ment. 

Ik)thwell,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  a  married  man 

•  Lfibaooff,  yVLm,  t  BUicklond.  v.  243^ 


The  Game  Advances. 


241 


but  he  had  concerted  a  project  of  divorce  with  his  wife, 
giving  \ier  a  whole  village  for  her  compliance.  She 
accused  him  of  adultery  with  Bessie  Crawford,  one  of  her 
•ervants.  and  obtained  from  the  Presbyterian  Court  of  Kirk 
Sessions  a  divorce  with  permission  to  remarry. 

Then  from  Dunbar  the  queen  was  brought  to  Edinburg 
and  confined  in  the  castle.  The  abductor  had  wooed  her 
and  met  'vvith  contempt;  he  produced  the  bond  of  the 
nobles  in  his  favor,  but  it  gained  him  no  better  advantage ; 
but  she  was  completely  and  hopelessly  in  the  power  of  an 
unscrupulous  and  unmitigated  rufiian,  who  had  sworn  that 
she  should  marry  him  with  or  without  her  consent. 

Finally,  he  used  physical  force  and  committed  upon  his 
sovereign  the  greatest  outrage  that  woman  can  suffer. 

Her  heart  was  broken,  her  courage  destroyed,  no  help 
from  man  was  near,  her  dignity  and  her  person  had 
suffered  the  extremest  insults,  and  now  even  her  pride  for- 
sook her  and  she  remained  a  passive  victim  in  his  power. 

Meantime  he  procured  a  second  bond  from  several  of 
the  lords  in  urgent  recommendation  of  the  marriage,^  and 
on  the  8th  of  May  he  ordered  the  banns  of  marriage  to  be 
read  at  St  Giles.  The  honest  parish  olerk  positively 
refused  to  read  them,  and  he  then  had  recourse  to  the 
minister  Mr.  Craig.  This  gentleman  required  to  be  cer- 
tified of  the  queen's  assent,  and  not  receiving  it,  also 
refiised  to  read  them.    The  next  day  however,  Sir  John 

♦  Strickland,  v.  22B. 

n 


242       Mary,   Queen  of  Scots, 

Bellenden,  Justice  Olerk,  brought  her  consent,  however  it 
was  obtained,  and  the  honest  minister  published  the  banns 
with  great  reluctance  and  with  a  solemn  protest  against 
the  marriage.  Furthermore,  when  called  before  the  council 
to  account  for  his  protest,  this  brave  man  repeated  it,  and 
then  and  there  charged  Both  well  to  his  face  with  adultery, 
with  procuring  a  divorce  by  collusion  with  his  wife,  with 
murdering  the  king  and  with  ravishing  his  queen.* 

And  now  the  poor  ladv,  utterly  at  his  mercy,  resigned 
herself  passively  to  his  will.  She  declared  her  assent  to 
the  marriage  ;  created  him  Duke  of  Orkney;  pardoned 
the  nobles  who  had  signed  the  nefarious  bond,  and  on  the 
14th  of  May  in  bridal  robes  of  black  crape  she  was  married 
by  Adam  Bothwell,  the  Protestant  Bishop  of  Orkney 
assisted  by  Mr.  Craig. 

No  gorgeous  display  was  here  ;  no  pomps  nor  pageants; 
no  wine  ran  in  the  fountains;  no  jubilant  bonfires  illumined 
the  heathy  hill-tops — no  banquets  nor  dancings  followed 
the  consummation  of  this  mournful  sacrifice,  but  all  was 
gloom  and  silence,  and  men  waited  in  dismal  foreboding; 
for  what  should  happen  next. 

As  for  Mary,  "  she  was  the  most  changed  woman  in  face 
that  her  courtiers  had  seen.f  Her  people  told  du  Croc, 
the  French  ambassador,  "  that  unless  God  aided  her,  they 
feared  she  would  become  desperate,"  and  "  she  herself  told 
him  in  Bothwell's  presence  not  to  be  surprised  to  see  het 

•  McCric's  Life  of  Knox.  254.  t  StrickUod,  v.  m. 


The  Game  Advances. 


24S 


sorrowful,"  for  that  "  she  could  not  rejoice,  nor  ever  should 
again.    All  she  desired  wan  death."^^^ 

That  also  shalt  thou  have  poor  lady,  but  not  yet. 

Thus  have  I  endeavored  to  tell  in  truth  and  simpleness 
the  history  of  this  horrible  marriage.  In  the  next  chapter 
I  shall  endeavor  to  prove  the  exact  correctness  of  all  the 
foregoing  statements,  as  well  as  that  Mary  was  but  a 
suffering  and  helpless  victim,  and  Both  well  but  a  brutal 
tool  in  the  hands  of  James,  Earl  of  Murray  and  his  fellow- 
conspirators, 

*  Labanofi;  vli  111. 


Chapter  XXIIL 
The  Last  Card  is  Played. 
1567. 

Mary  Stuart  was  accused  by  Murray  and  Lis  fellow- 
conspirators  of  loving  Bothwell,  procuring  the  removal  of 
her  husband  by  death,  and  forming  with  the  earl  the  plan 
of  her  own  abduction.  These  accusations  have  been 
revamped  by  Robertson,  McCrie  and  others.  They  rest  for 
proof  solely  upon  the  "  Silvergilt  Casket  Letters  "  and  other 
papers  already  discussed.  I  have  done  what  I  could  to 
show  the  worthlessness  of  those  papers,  and  will  repeat 
nothing  here.    But  I  have  one  point  to  add. 

Mary  Stuart  left  Edinburg  on  the  22d  of  April;  rode 
thirty-one  miles  on  horseback  to  Stirling ;  visited  her  child 
»nd  slept  there.  The  next  morning  she  returned  as  far  aa 
Linlithgow  where  she  passed  the  night.  The  next  day  she 
was  seized  by  BothwelL 

But  several  days  before,  Drury  knew  that  Bothwell  had 
fortified  Dunbar  and  had  a  troop  of  1000  men  ready  foi 


The  Last  Card  Played. 


245 


lome  desperate  enterprise  ;  which  was,  as  the  result  shows 
to  carry  off  the  queen.* 

This  being  true,  if  in  complicity  with  Both  well,  she  did 
not  write  (as  Maitland,  Murray  and  Morton  swear  upon 
their  honors  she  did)  letters  VI.,  VIL  and  VIIL,  which 
contain  nothing  but  entreaties  to  be  informed  of  the  when^ 
where  and  how  he  intends  to  abduct  her.f 

Putting  aside  the  improbability  of  a  delicate  woman  m 
extremely  ill  health,  after  a  horseback  ride  of  thirty- one 
miles,  sitting  up  all  night  to  write  three  letters  on  the  same 
subject  and  of  her  getting  a  messenger  to  carry  them 
thirty-one  miles  and  back,  the  mere  fact  that  Both  well's 
plan  had  been  matured  for  days  and  that  she,  if  guilty, 
must  have  known  it,  is  a  suflScient  proof  that  she  never 
wrote  those  letters  at  all. 

But  Maitland,  who  was  with  her  at  Stirling,  and  was  cap- 
tured with  her  at  Foulbriggs,  swears  on  his  honor  that  write 
them  she  did.  He  was  with  her  yet  does  not  say  he  knew 
of  her  writing  them  at  the  time:  nay,  must  have  been  igno- 
rant of  it  inasmuch  as  one  of  those  choice  epistles  oega 
Bothwell  to  "persuade  the  lords  as  much  as  he  can,"  and 
particularly  "to  say  many  fair  words  to  Ledington."J 

These  words  appear  to  me  another  proof  that  Maitland 
of  Lethington  was  himself  the  author  of  the  letters,  and 

♦  See  page  239.    Vide  also  this  work,  p.  246. 

t  Buchannan's  Detection,  146-182.  %  'bid.  lid. 


246       Mary,   Queen  of  Scoxg. 

that  he  mentioned  himself  in  them,  to  show  that  he  had 
no  part  in  nor  knowledge  of  BothwelPs  plan. 

She  saw  Bothwell  on  the  night  of  the  20th  when  he 
pacified  the  mutinous  guards.  Most  probably  she  saw 
him  on  the  morning  of  the  21st  when  she  left  Edinburg, 
yet  although  she  had  formed  with  him  a  plot  for  her 
abduction,  she  goes  thirty-one  miles  away  from  him  for  the 
express  purposes  of  writing  three  letters  to  him  that 
night  for  information  about  it,  of  attempting  to  poison 
her  child  and  of  teaching  greyhound  whelps  to  eat  apples ! 

So  much  for  the  evidence  against  her.  Let  us  look  on 
the  other  side,  and  first  of  all  hear  Mary  Stuart's  own 
version  of  the  whole  story ;  for,  in  these  cases,  women  are 
permitted,  in  every  court,  to  testify  for  themselves.  I 
quote  from  her  instructions  to  the  Bishop  of  Dunblane  to 
explain  her  marriage  to  the  court  of  France. 

After  a  noble  recognition  of  Both  well's  past  services,  she 
proceeds : — 

"  Of  late,  since  the  decease  of  the  king  our  husband, 
his  pretensions  began  to  be  higher,  we  found  his  proceed- 
ings rather  strange.  Aloeit  now  since  we  have  so  far 
proceeded  with  him  that  we  must  interpret  all  things  for 
the  best,  yet  we  have  been  highly  oflfended ;  first  with  hii 
presumption  in  thinking  that  we  could  not  sufficiently 
reward  him,  unless  we  should  give  ourselves  to  him  ifl 
recompense  of  his  services ;  next  for  his  practices  anrf 
lecret  means,  and  at  length  the  plain  attempt  to  get  us  h 


The  Last  Card  Flayed.  247 


f(yrce  into  his  power  for  fear  of  being  disappointed  of  his 
purposes.'* 

She  then  rehearses  her  own  kindness  and  acts  of  grati 
tude  towards  him,  exhibits  her  full  knowledge  of  the 
language  of  the  nobles'  bond,  and  continues : — 

"The  same  (the  bond)  being  once  obtained,  he  began 
afar  off  to  discover  his  intention  to  us,  and  to  try  by 
humble  suit  to  purchase  our  good  will ;  but  finding  out 
answer  nothing  correspondent  with  his  desires,  etc.,  etc.,  h«s 
resolved  to  follow  his  fortune,  and  laying  aside  all  respect, 
either  to  lose  all  in  an  hour  or  to  bring  to  pass  what  ho 
had  taken  in  hand." 

Then  she  mentions  his  assault  at  Foulbrigg's,  his  carry- 
ing her  to  Dunbar ;  his  humble  but  unceasing  urgency  of 
his  desire,  and  his  plea  of  faithful  services,  and  "  when  he 
found  her  like  to  reject  all  his  suit  and  offers^^  his  pro* 
duction  of  the  bond.  She  speaks  of  her  complete  lone- 
liness in  his  power,  "  never  any  man  in  Scotland  making 
any  attempt  to  procure  our  deliverance,  and  finally  tells  how 
he  partly  extorted  and  partly  obtained  our  promise  to  take 
him  to  our  husband,  and  yet,  not  content  therewith,  fear- 
ing ever  some  alteration,  he  w^ould  not  be  satisfied  with 
all  the  just  reasons  we  could  allege  to  have  the  consumma- 
tion of  the  marriage  delayed  *  *  *  but  as  by  bravado 
in  the  beginning  he  had  won  his  first  point,  so  ceased  he 
never  until  by  persuasions  and  importunate  suit,  acconipa^ 


248       Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 

nud  jwt  the  less  with  force^  lie  has  finally  driven  us  ia 
end  the  work.''* 

And  again  in  her  instructions  to  Ridolfi,  sent  by  her  to 
the  Pope,  the  King  of  Spain  and  the  Duke  of  Alva: 

"You  shall  declare  to  his  Holiness  our  great  grief  at 
being  made  prisoner  by  one  of  our  subjects,  the  Earl 
Bothwell,  and  carried  captive  with  the  Earl  of  Huntley  and 
Livingston  our  secretary  to  the  castle  of  Dunbar,  and 
thence  to  Edinburor  Castle,  where  we  were  retained  aoaiml 
our  will  in  the  hands  of  the  said  Earl,  until  he  could 
obtain  a  divorce  from  his  wife,  a  sister  of  Lord  Huntley  and 
our  own  near  relative,  and  compel  us  to  give  our  promise, 
/till  against  our  will^  to  him.  Therefore  I  implore  his 
Holiness  to  take  such  order  in  this  matter,  that  we  may  be 
relieved  from  this  indignity  by  means  of  a  process  at  Rome, 
or  by  a  commission  ordered  in  Scotland,  to  all  the  Bishops 
and  other  Catholic  judges  as  may  seem  best  to  his  Holi- 
ness."f 

Here  we  see  two  documents  full  of  Mary  Stuart's  gentle* 
ness  and  delicacy,  even  in  describing  as  infamous  ai? 
outrage  as  ever  reckless  ruffian  perpetrated  on  this  earth. 

Others  are  plainer  in  their  statements.  In  the  Archivei 
of  the  Medicis  in  Florence,  is  found  a  contemporary  Jccu- 
ment  addressed  to  all  Christian  kings  and  princes.  That 
also  declares  how  Bothwell  ''one  day  as  the  qu^n  was  j 

*  Labanofif,  ii  82,  et  eeq.  +  Labanoff.  iu.  28L 


The  Last  Card  Plated.  249 


Beying,  almost  alone,  to  visit  her  son,  assaulted  her  on  tha 
highway  with  many  of  his  friends,  and  with  good  worda 
and  declarations  that  her  Majesty  was  in  iminent  danger, 
{grandisimo  2}ericolo)^  carried  her  off  to  one  of  his 
castles.'^* 

Mr.  Craig,  the  honest  minister  of  St.  Giles,  accused  the 
rude  Earl  openly  of  carrying  off  and  ravishing  the  queen, 
and  asserted  also  that  such  was  the  public  opinion. 

Read  next  the  act  of  Parliament  for  BothwelPs  attain- 
der, December  20,  1567,  framed  by  McGill  who  afterwards 
accused  her,  and  passed  under  the  presidency  of  the  Regent 
Murray,  attended  by  Morton,  Maitland  and  the  rest  of  the 
conspirators.  These  men  declare  by  solemn  act  of  the  Three 
Estates  of  Scotland,  in  the  name  of  King  James  VI.,  that 
Both  well  "did  most  treasonably  intercept  the  most  noble 
person  of  our  m.ost  illustrious  mother,  Mary,  Queen  of 
Scots,  on  her  way  from  Linlithgow,  to  the  town  ot  Edinburg 
near  the  bridges  vulgarly  called  Foulbriggis,  besetting  her 
with  a  thousand  armed  men,  equipped  in  manner  of  war, 
fehe  suspecting  no  evil  from  any  of  her  subjects,  and  least  of 
all  from  the  Earl  of  Both  well.  He  by  force  and  violence 
treasonably  seized  her  most  noble  person,  put  violent  handt 
upon  her,  not  permitting  her  to  enter  her  own  town  of 
Edmburg  in  peace,  but  carried  her  away  that  same  night 
to  the  castle  of  Dunbar  against  her  will  and  there  detained 
her  as  his  prisoner  for  about  twelve  days."f 

•  Labanoff,  vlL  311.  t  Strickland  v.  242. 


250 


MakYj   Queek  of  Scots. 


Huntley,  Maitland,  Sir  James  Melville  and  otliers,  wh« 
were  captured  with  her,  assisted  in  the  passage  of  this  act 

Sir  James  Melville  says  "The  Queen  could  not  hU 
fiiarry  Bothwell  after  what  had  occurred  against  her  will^ 
adding,  says  Mrs.  Strickland,  "  words  too  explicit  to  hi 
repeated  here,  plainly  indicating  that  it  was  amongst  the 
erroneous  notions  of  that  age  that  injuries  of  tliat  nature 
might  be  repaired  by  marriage."* 

Finally,  the  very  rebels  self-styled  "  Lords  of  the  Secret 
Council,"  who  made  Murray  Regent,  who  immured  her  in 
Lochleven  Castle,  these  very  lords  in  their  own  proclama- 
tion declare  that  Bothwell  "  intercepted  her  Maj^ty,  car- 
rried  her  forcibly  away,  compelled  her  to  marry  him,  and 
kept  her  under  restraint."  And  again  in  their  letter  to 
Elizabeth's  ambassador  Throckmorton,  "The  Queen  our 
Sovereign,  was  shamefully  led  captive,  and  by  fear,  force 
and,  as  by  many  conjectures  be  well  suspected,  other  extra- 
ordinary and  unlawful  means  compelledP\ 

Mrs.  Strickland,  to  whom  we  are  again  indebted,  refraini 
from  motives  of  delicacy  from  quoting  any  further,  the 
language  which  explains  the  horrid  unmanly  outrage  "  in 
the  most  positive  words  and  homely  phraseology  ."J 

Thus  is  Queen  Mary  proved  not  only  guiltless  of  any  com- 
plicity with  Bdthwell,  but  that  she  was  the  victim  of  fiend 
iah  outrage  by  her  whole  past  life,  by  the  calm  serenity  of 


•  Strickland,  v.  TO.  t  Ibid.  v.  324 

;  It  is  given  in  Lingard,      75.  Xote. 


The  LAbT  Card  Played.  251 

• 

hei  holy  death,  by  her  own  impassionate  assei'tion  ;  by  the 
Italian  contemporary  writer ;  by  the  minister  who  marrit/ 
her;  by  the  public  opinion  of  the  day;  by  the  proclama- 
tion and  official  letters  of  the  very  rebels  who  dethroned 
her,  and  by  solemn  act  of  the  Parliament  of  Scotlan'.l, 
held  under  Murray's  Regency. 

And  the  only  evidences  against  her  are  the  assertions 
and  forged  papers  of  Murray,  Maitland,  Morton  and 
McGill,  who  swear  to  Elizabeth's  commissioners,  that  they 
possessed  those  damning  proofs  of  her  guilt  six  monthn 
before  they  passed  the  act  of  Parliament  declaring  her  tho 
spotless  victim  of  unexampled  brutality. 

I  do  not  believe  that  Both  well,  in  spite  of  his  services, 
which  were  indeed  meritorious  and  distinguished,  would 
ever  have  so  far  presumed  had  he  not  been  goaded  on  by 
Murray  and  his  accomplices.  Leslie,  Bishop  of  Ross, 
expressly  asserts  it:  "Why  did  you.  Earl  of  Murray,  with 
a  great  number  of  the  nobility,  move  further  and  work  the 
said  marriage  as  most  meet  and  necessary  for  your  queen ! 
Why  did  you,  as  hy  your  handwriting  it  will  appear^  prof- 
fer and  promise  to  him  your  faithful  service  ?"* 

The  answer  is  a  simple  one.  Because  he  saw  that  such 
marriage  would  destroy  her.  For  he  had  plotted  Darnley'i 
murder,  and  used  Bothwell  as  a  tool.  He  could  at  any 
time  convict  that  nobleman  of  the  crime;  but  to  do  sd 


•  Tytler,  n.  141 


252        Mary,  Queek  of  Scots. 

would  be  to  make  him  infamous,  render  his  marriage  with 
Mary  impossible,  and  so  her  destruction  would  be  more 
difficult.  Therefore  he  acquitted  Bothwell,  induced  the 
marriage,  accused  both,  drove  one  into  exile,  immured  the 
other  in  prison,  and  attained  the  object  of  his  whole  life's 
yearning  desire,  the  throne  of  Scotland. 

The  original  of  this  Bond  of  the  Nobles"  is  lost  ;  but 
two  copies  are  extant,  one  in  the  Cottonian  Library,  and 
the  other  in  the  Scottish  College,  Paris.  The  former  bears 
Murray's  name,  and  is  attested  by  John  Reade,  servitour 
and  writour  to  Mr.  George  Buchannan. "  The  latter  does 
not  bear  Murray's  name,  and  is  attested  by  Sir  James  Bal- 
four, murderer  of  Darnley,  discoverer  of  the  * '  Silver  Casket 
Letters"  and  tool  of  Regent  Murray.  Number  one  is  de- 
clared by  Cecil  to  have  been  presented  to  him  by  Lething- 
ton,  Buchannan  and  Read,  as  evidence  against  Mary,  in 
1568.*  Number  two  does  not  see  the  light  until  Morton 
quarrels  with  Balfour,  in  1581.  If  Balfour's  copy  does  not 
bear  the  name  of  Murray,  neither  does  it  bear  those  of  Glen- 
cairn,  Lindsay,  nor,  we  may  be  sure.  Sir  James  Balfour  ! 

The  merits  of  both  as  pieces  of  testimony  being  equal, 
compare  the  probabilities  of  correctness.  One  is  brought 
to  light  fourteen  years  after  its  date,  by  a  signer  of  it,  an 
accomplice  of  Murray's  faction,  the  acknowledged  murderer 
of  Darnley  and  finder  of  the  silver  casket,  and  is  used  as 


♦  Tytier,  ii.  108. 


The  Last  Card  Played. 


253 


evidence  against  another  accomplice,  the  then  Regent,  Ear. 
of  Morton.  The  other  is  produced  as  evidence  against  Queen 
Mary,  by  Murray  and  his  commissioners,  Morton  and  Lynd- 
Bay,  Maitland,  Buchannan,  Balnaves  and  McGill;  is  attested 
by  Buchannan's  own  secretary,  John  Reade,  and  is  offered 
before  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  with  the  rest  of  their  docu- 
ments thrown  out. 

This  then  is  likeliest  to  be  the  true  copy ;  this,  which 
bears  Murray's  signature;  and  this  likelihood  is  corrobo- 
rated by  Bishop  Leslie's  contemporaneous  accusation 
quoted  above ;  by  the  assertion  of  the  loyal  nobility,  some 
€>{  whom  were  repentant  signers  of  the  bond  by  the  fact 
that  Morton,  Maitland  and  the  rest  did  nothing  without 
iheir  master  Murray ;  by  the  fact  that  Murray  was  the 
public  prosecutor  of  his  sister;  by  the  fact  that  this 
copy  with  his  signature  was  given  in,  by  his  commissioners 
as  evidence  on  such  prosecution,  and  by  the  certainty  that 
the  wily  Cecil  would  not  entertain  the  idea  of  such  a 
eneasure,  if  it  were  unsanctioned  by  the  most  powerful  man 
m  Scotland,  the  regent  of  that  kinofdom. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  only  things  against  his  signature 
are  that  his  accomplice  and  tool  did  not  betray  him  after  3 
silence  of  fourteen  years;  and  what,  to  my  great  amaze- 
nent,  satisfies  Mr.  Aytoun,  that  he,  Murray,  could  not  have 
ugned  it  because  he  was  in  France  !  Just  Heaven  !  Why 
Dick  Turpin  himself  was  but  a  pupil  of  this  man  in  the 


254       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 


science  of  proving  an  alibi.  He  was  absent  from  Edinbarg 
also  when  Riccio  was  killed.  He  was  in  Fifeshire  when 
Darnley  was  murdered.  He  was  with  Elizabeth  when 
Bothwell  was  tried.  He  was  abroad  when  the  queen  wai 
seized  and  himself  proclaimed  regent.  Therefore,  how 
could  those  guileless  innocent  fingers  sign  the  bond  when 
he  was  in  France  ? 

One  other  precious  document  must  here  be  mentioned, 
as  it  is  by  Cecil,  no  less  a  matter  than  a  regular  "  warrant 
from  the  Queen  of  Scots,  giving  them  license  to  sign  the 
bond,"  before  they  did  so.* 

Now,  although  this  paper  was  never  produced  in  evi- 
dence, but  only  privately  shown  to  Cecil,  yet  Buchannan^ 
and  Robertson,  and  McCrie — the  first,  fourteen  years  after- 
wards, and  the  other  two.  a  couple  of  centuries  after— 
railed  up  the  wretched  forgery,  and  use  as  if  a  piece  of  evi- 
dence then  and  there  accepted  against  Mary  Stuart ! 

Yet  the  same  authorities  inform  us,  as  does  the  truth 
also  in  this  case,  that  the  nobles  afterwards  craved  and 
obtained  her  pardon  for  signing  this  bond.  Asked  and 
got  pardon  for  doing  what  they  had  her  own  express  war- 
rant and  commission  to  do ! 

And  now  I  have  done  with  the  evidence  in  this  loatL- 
Bome  conspiracy.  I  have  treated  it  as  laboriously,  honestly 
and  fairly  as  my  powers  have  permitted  me.  At  all 
events,  I  have  done  with  it. 

•  Tytler,  n.  lOfiL 


The  Last  Card  Plated.  255 

The  plot  has  thus  far  succeeded.  There  is  but  one  more 
card  to  play,  and  then  the  trick  will  be  won.  Away  with 
you,  James,  Earl  of  Murray ;  go  hide  yourself  deep  in  the 
heart  of  France ;  establish  your  alibi,  and  then  you  shall 
dome  back  to  us,  the  "  Godly  Regent    of  Scotland. 


4 


Chapter  XXIIL 

The   Trick  is  Won. 
June  i6th,  1567. 

The  venerable  and  noble  statesman  du  Croc,  who  had 
been  the  friend  of  Mary  of  Lorraine,  was  still  at  the  court 
of  her  daughter  as  ambassador  from  Charles  the  Ninth , 
and  to  his  most  respectable  testimony  we  are  indebted 
principally  for  the  ensuing  narrative. 

He  had  refused  to  attend  the  miserable  wedding,  the 
marriage  feast  of  the  wolf  and  the  lamb,  but  he  called 
upon  the  mournful  queen  on  the  same  day.  Already  he 
saw  by  her  manner  that  she  was  no  willing  bride.  She 
begged  him  to  excuse  her  sadness,  telling  him  that  she 
could  not  ever  again  rejoice,  that  her  only  hope  was  the 
rest  and  untroubled  silence  of  the  grave.  The  day  before, 
when  in  a  cabinet  alone  with  Both  well,  she  was  heard  to 
shriek,  nay,  in  her  despair,  to  cry  out  for  a  dagger*  that 
ibe  might  end  her  own  unhappy  life,  and  the  shuddering 

•  Labanoff,  viL  lit 


The  Trick  is  Won. 


251 


hearers  thought  that  "  if  God  did  not  soon  aid  her  she 
would  perish  desperately." 

The  conduct  of  her  brutal  husband  was  what  might 
have  been  expected  from  him.  "  Already  is  the  princesfi 
treated  so  badly  and  with  such  contempt,  that  I,"  says  Sir 
James  Melville,  "  heard  her  one  day,  in  Arthur  Erskine'a 
presence,  ask  for  a  poignard  to  stab  herself,  and  threatening 
even  to  fling  herself  from  the  window."* 

To  win,  if  possible,  the  good  will  of  the  Congregation, 
Bothwell  procured  the  revocation  of  her  Act  of  Religious 
Toleration,  the  first  ever  passed  in  Europe,  and  made  non- 
conformity to  the  worship  and  doctrines  of  the  new  religion 
severely  penal.  No  one  was  allowed  access  to  her  except 
through  lines  of  his  armed  followers  and  by  express  permis- 
sion from  himself.  In  public,  when  he  compelled  her  to 
appear  with  him,  she  was  constantly  surrounded  by  his 
guardsmen.  "  He  was  so  beastly  and  suspicious,"  says 
Melville,  "  that  he  suffered  not  to  pass  a  single  day  with- 
out causing  her  to  shed  abundance  of  salt  tears."f  Even 
traitor  Maitland  bears  witness  to  this,  for  he  told  du  Croo 
"  that,  from  the  day  after  her  nuptials  she  had  never  ceased 
from  tears  and  lamentations,  and  that  Bothwell  would  not 
allow^  her  to  see  any  one,  nor  any  one  to  see  her."J 

He  refused  to  let  her  go  to  Stirling  to  see  her  son,  unless 
accompanied  by  himself  with  a  strong  force,  and  this,  of 
course.  Earl  Mar  the  prince's  guardian,  would  not  allow, 

♦  Labanoff,  il.  30.  Strickland,  v.  263.  $  Ibid.  807. 


258       Mart,  Queen  or  Scots. 

He  and  .he  queen  both  knew  Both  well's  desire  to  get  poft 
session  of  James,  and  she,  prisoner  as  she  was,  found  means 
to  send  Bishop  Lesley  to  Stirling,  with  earnest  injunctions 
to  Mar  never  to  yield  her  boy  to  any  other  hands  than  hex 
owr. 

Nor  were  these  all  her  sorrows.  Du  Croc  told  her  that 
Murray  was  not  in  France  at  all,  as  she  supposed,  but  in 
England  "plotting  with  the  council,  little  to  her  good."* 
She  knew  that  Sir  Robert  Melville,  her  ambassador  in 
England,  was  her  secret  enemy :  that  Morton  had  retired 
from  the  capital  to  work  out  some  new  evil.  Already  had 
the  conspirators  purchased  Sir  James  Balfour,  captain  of 
Edinburg  castle,  and  he  was  ready  at  the  first  summons  to 
give  that  fortress  up  to  them.  Maitland  the  crafty  still  spun 
his  webs  and  lay  in  wait  beside  her  until  Both  well  quar* 
relied  with  him ;  for  that  brute  drew  his  dagger  on  the 
Mcretaij  and  would  have  slai:i  him  on  the  spot,  had  she  not 
ihrown  herself  with  characteristic  bravery  before  the 
uplifted  weapon.    And  thus  did  Mary  Stuart  save  the  li/i 

William  Maitland  of  Lethington  at  the  imminent  risk 
of  her  own. 

And  Maitland  paid  her  for  it!  with  the  same  coin  he 
paid  her  that  George  Buchannan  had  used  to  recompense 
the  like  service,  to  wit,  with  dethronement  and  captivity,  a 
broken  heart  and  a  bloody  death. 

And  next,  James  Hepburn  dismissed  from  her  lemM 

•  Strickland,  v.  261 


The  Teick  is  Won, 


259 


Aie  Couutess  of  Buccleugh  and  Lady  Re  res  and  they  railed 
riolently  against  him  and  the  queen.  He  dismissed  Lady 
Reres,  who,  George  Buchannan  says,  had  been  at  first  his 
mistress,  then  his  procuress  and  iVen  his  go-between  with 
Mary.  Dismissed  her  and  she  railed  angrily  in  word  and 
writing  against  her  royal  mistress,  but  not  one  syllable 
about  the  "  Silver  Casket  Letters,"  not  one  insinuation  how- 
ever slight  of  any  sin  between  Queen  Mary  and  Earl  Both- 
well.* 

No  wonder  that  the  terrible  fainting  fits  came  on  again 
and  that  all  who  saw  her  marvelled  at  her  altered  and 
crushed  appearance. 

But  now  it  is  time  for  James  Stuart,  Earl  of  Murray,  be 
he  in  England  with  Elizabeth  or  plotting  with  the  Hugue- 
nots in  France,  to  pull  the  wires  and  to  set  his  puppets 
in  motion  for  the  last  grand  scene. 

In  vain  did  Bothwell  frequent  the  sermons  of  the 
ministers;  they  distrusted  him  only  the  more.  In  vain 
did  he  devise  pageants  for  the  people  and  drag  his  poor 
captive,  surrounded  by  a  guard,  to  witness  them  ;  the  peo- 
ple only  hated  him  the  more.  In  vain  did  he  cause  her  to 
make  a  proclamation,  demanding  troops  to  put  down  an 
insurrection  on  the  Borders;  the  people  refused  to  rise  and 
the  nobles  would  not  follow  him,  Lord  Warden  and  Lieu- 
tenant though  he  were. 

Then  Morton  began  the  play.    Having,  as  we  said  above, 

•  Strickland,  v.  965. 


260 


Mart,  Queen  of  Scots. 


purchased  Sir  James  Balfour,*  he  raised  a  force,  and  pre- 
pared to  march  to  Edinburg  and  seize  on  Bothwell  and 
Queen  Mary ;  Bothwell,  however,  fearing  some  such  deed, 
retired  to  Borthwick  Castle,  an  immensely  powerful  fast- 
ness, twelve  miles  southeast  of  Edinburg,  dragging  hia 
prisoner  with  him.    This  was  on  June  the  7th. 

The  next  day  Morton,  at  the  head  of  the  rebels,  marched 
to  besiege  this  castle,  and  as  the  line  of  advancing  lances 
began  to  glimmer  in  the  distance.  Lord  Bothwell  bade  his 
castellan  make  good  resistance,  and  fled  himself  out  of  a 
postern  door. 

Ere  nightfall,  Borthwick  was  beleaguered  by  twelve 
hundred  spears,  but  the  walls  were  high  and  strong.  So 
after  shouting  insults  to  their  sovereign,  they  fell  back  to 
Dalkeith. 

The  gaoler  had  fled ;  his  people,  though  devoted  to  his 
interests  dared  not  to  intrude  themselves  upon  Queen 
Mary's  privacy ;  she  was  released  from  his  odious  presence, 
and  once  more  the  royal  soul  awoke  within  her  and  she 
resolved  to  attempt  her  freedom,  and  to  throw  herself 
upon  the  loyalty  of  her  people. 

She  wrote  to  Sir  James  Balfour,  ordering  hira  to  fire  on 
iiae  rebels  if  they  should  enter  Edinburg,  and  then  when 
the  inmates  of  the  castle  had  sunk  to  slumber,  in  the  mirk 
midnight,  she  arose,  dressed  herself  fully  in  cavalier's  attirei, 

♦  For  the  bond  given  to  this  ^Tetch  by  Morton  and  others,  In  full,  vfde  Strielt 
land,  T.  269. 


The  Trick  is  Won.  26j 


•purred  boots  and  plamed  cbapeau,  stole  from  ner  room  and 
down  the  turret  stairs,  into  the  dining  hall  ;  thence  through 
A  window,  she  lowered  herself  down  twenty-eight  feet  tc 
the  ground,  passed  through  the  postern  door,  seized  on  a 
trooper's  horse,  kept  there  in  readiness  for  service,  and 
bravely  leaping  on  his  back  rode  forth  alone  into  the  dim 
night,  through  swamps  and  tracts  of  whitethorn,  whereso- 
ever it  might  please  God  to  guide  her. 

But  she  was  not  thus  to  be  free.  She  had  a  gloomy 
future  before  her,  and  she  must  dree  her  weird."  She 
was  entirely  ignorant  of  the  neighborhood,  and  perhaps 
the  night  was  dark.  She  must  have  ridden  round  and 
round  for  weary  hours,  for  she  had  only  gained  two  miles 
from  Berth  wick,  when,  in  the  grey  of  the  misty  dawn,  she 
rode  suddenly  out  of  the  shadows  into  the  midst  of  a  band 
of  troopers  and  the  presence  of  Bothwell. 

For  the  second  time  he  carried  her  to  his  own  strong 
fortress  of  Dunbar. 

June  11. — The  conspirators  enter  Edinburg,  and  publish 
a  proclamation  stating  that  the  queen  having  been  forcibly 
carried  away  prisoner  by  Bothwell,  they  have  appointed  a 
secret  council  to  govern  the  realm  and  take  measures  for 
her  deliverance. 

June  12. — They  issue  the  proclamation  on  page  249, 
accusing  Bothwell  of  the  murder  of  Darnley,  of  the  forci- 
ble abduction  of  the  queen,  and  of  having  violently  com- 
pelled hei  to  espouse  him. 


862       Mart    Queen  of  Scots 


June  14. — Both  well  has  succeeded  in  raising  twenty-fivi 
nundred  raen,  and  with  the  queen,  Le  marches  from  Dunbar. 
Morton,  at  the  head  of  three  thousand^  well  armed  troops, 
issues  from  Edinburg,  and  the  fees  meet  face  to  face  on  the 
15  th,  at  Car  berry  Hill,  five  miles  from  Edinburg,  near 
the  disastrous  field  of  Pinkie.* 

The  armies  thus  fronted  each  other  until  the  afternoon, 
neither  being  particularly  desirous  to  engage :  indeed  not 
being  very  sure  what  they  were  to  fight  about.  The  insur- 
gents declared  themselves  in  arms  to  avenge  the  death  of 
King  Henry  Darnley,  punish  his  murderer  and  deliver 
their  sovereign.  Bothwell's  men,  on  the  other  hand,  if 
except  his  own  feudal  retainers,  had  little  stomach  for  the 
fray.  Some  of  them  "  were  informed  of  the  many  indig 
nities  put  upon  Mary,  by  the  Earl  of  Both  well  since  their 
marriage.  Part  of  his  own  company  detested  him,  other 
part  of  them  believed  that  her  Majesty  would  fain  have 
been  quit  of  him,  but  thought  shame  to  be  the  doer  of  the 
deed  directly  herselff 

Mary  had  persuaded  Monsieur  du  Croc  to  go  and  treat 
with  the  insurgents.  On  the  12th  he  met  Earls  Mor- 
ton and  Mar,  Lords  Hume,  Lyndsay  and  Sempill  and 
endeavored  to  bring  them  to  some  composition  ;  urging  the 
absurdity  of  their  proclaiming  Bothwell  a  murderer  and 
ravisher  when  they  themselves  had  acquitte^l  him  on  trial, 
and  given  him  a  bond  testifying  to  his  innocence  att' 

♦  Fitf«  page  83.  t  MeMlle  in  A3rtona,  flSB. 


The  Tkiok  is  Won. 


263 


urging  his  marriage  with  the  queen.  Of  course  it  was  not 
their  object  to  listen  to  sense  however,  and  the  ambassador 
retired  in  disofust.* 

He  was  with  Bothwell's  troops  however,  on  the  15th,  and 
there  urged  the  queen  to  prevent  any  engagement  if 
possible,  telling  her  that  the  insurgent  lords  declared  them 
selves  her  bumble  and  loyal  subjects ;  but  demanded  that 
she  should  at  once  quit  Bothwell. 

To  that  noble's  question  of  what  the  lords  wanted,  du 
Croc  replied  that  they  were  the  queen's  humble  servants, 
but  his,  Bothwell's,  inveterate  foes.  Then  the  rude  noble- 
man, who  at  least  was  not  a  coward,  begged  the  French- 
man to  carry  his  cartel  into  the  enemies'  camp,  proposing 
"X)  settle  the  question  by  single  combat.  This  however 
appeared  absurd  to  the  aged  statesman  and  he  refused  to 
be  the  bearer  of  the  message.  Again  he  returned  to  the 
rebels,  and  told  them  that  the  queen  was  ready  to  forgive 
them  if  they  would  submit.  Their  answer  was  to  put  on 
their  helmets  and  barrett-caps,  and  begged  him  to  leave 
the  field  before  the  battle  joined. 

Meanwhile,  Sir  William  Kirkaldy  of  Grange  was  riding 
about,  trying,  it  seemed,  to  cut  off  Bothwell's  passage  to 
Dunbar.  Mary  saw  and  sent  for  him  to  come  to  her.  He 
came  but  only  to  renew  assurances  of  respect  for  her  if  she 
would  but  quit  Bothwell.  That  ruffian  tried  to  have  him 
ahot  by  a  soldier,  but  the  queen  overheard  the  directions 

*  See  du  Oroc^i  narrative  in  ftill,  Labanoff,  vlL  113. 


264       Maky,  Queen  of  Scots. 

Mid  indignantly  forbade  the  deed.  Kirkaldy  offered  to 
pccept  the  challenge,  but  Bothweli  refused,  saying  he,  Kir^ 
kaldy,  was  neither  earl  nor  lord  and  therefore  not  his  peer. 
He  refused  the  Laird  of  TuUibardine  on  the  same  grounds. 
He  was  crazy  to  fight  Morton,  but  that  worthy  had  not 
the  slightest  intention  of  getting  within  the  reach  of 
such  an  arm  as  BothwelPs.  At  last,  as  big  a  rufKan  aa 
himself  was  proposed  and  accepted.  This  was  Lord 
Lyudsay,  the  hunter  of  "  idolatrous  priests but  while 
they  were  arranging  the  preliminaries  of  the  fight,  the 
queen  sent  again  for  Grange  and  offered  to  yield  to  the 
lords,  if  she  might  trust  their  words. 

He  went  back  to  his  camp  and  came  again  with 
renewed  assurances  of  loyalty  and  respect  "  in  all  their 
united  names."  Bothweli  entreated  her  not  to  trust  the 
rebels ;  to  await  the  issue  of  the  single  combat ;  to  fly  with 
him  to  Dnnbar,  But  she  was  weary  of  the  infamy  and 
agony  of  his  company,  refused  his  request  and  ordered  him 
to  retire  to  his  castle,  where  she  would  write  to  him  what 
course  he  should  pursue. 

So  here,  mounted  on  his  fierce,  black  charger,  his  soul 
full  ot  hate  and  useless  fury,  mad  with  disappointed 
ambition  and  baffled  schemes  of  power,  James  Hepburn, 
Earl  of  Bothweli  and  Duke  of  Orkney  rides  forth,  away 
from  the  presence  of  his  victim,  wife  and  q  leen  and  dis- 
appears forever  from  these  pages. 

First  to  Dunbar  not  there  to  rest  but  to  fling  himself 


The  Trick  is  Won. 


265 


ink'  a  l\\ik,  and  sail  madly  northward  through  the  fretful 
•ear. ;  v^o.vstir-.g  the  bleak,  extreme  capes  of  Scotland  to  the 
Orknevs.  There  to  be  denied  entrance  into  his  own  castle, 
ai  d  to  go  furious,  full  of  wrathful  anguish  to  Denmark. 
Then  iVe  grimy  dungeon,  where  the  salt  sea  oozed 
through  the  walls  and,  trickling  damply  down  the  pale 
green  mould,  covered  the  floor  with  bitter  slime ;  and 
thence,  picking  the  accumulated  filth  of  years  from  hia 
gaunt  body  and  howling  out  vain  curses,  to  await  for  tho 
end ;  for  the  time  when  his  blood-stained  soul  should  go 
forth  over  the  dark  and  icy  shores  of  death  to  its  utterly 
hopeless  eternity. 

"  Laird  of  Grange,"  said  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  "  I 
render  me  unto  you  upon  the  conditions  you  rehearsed  to 
me  in  the  names  of  the  lords." 

She  extended  her  hand  and  he  knelt  down  on  the  field 
and  kissed  it.  Then,  when  she  was  got  to  horseback,  he 
mounted  his  own  strong  war-horse  and  holding  his  steel 
cap  high  above  his  head,  preceded  her  down  the  hill. 

If  she  would  but  abandon  him  who  was  her  husband's 
murderer,  the  rebel  lords  declared  that  they  would  love  and 
serve  her  fa-  'hfully  and  well. 

Well  she  has  done  so  ;  let  us  see  now  how  they  kee; 
fiaith.  There  are  the  sons  of  the  Douglas  the  and  Ruthvco, 
who  shed  their  blood  like  water  for  her  heroic  ancestoi 

12 


266       Maey,  Quken  of  Scots. 

Robert  Bruce ;  how  will  they  treat  his  cliild  and  repro« 
tentative  ?    A  short  tirae  will  tell. 

At  the  hillfoot  Morton  advanced  to  meet  her,  and  she 
addressed  to  him  and  his  colleagues  these  words : 

"  My  lords,  I  am  come  to  you,  not  out  of  any  fear  I  had  for 
my  life,  nor  yet  doubting  of  the  victory  if  matters  had  come 
to  the  worst,  but  to  save  the  effusion  of  Christian  blood; 
and  therefore  have  I  come  to  you,  trusting  in  your  pro- 
mises that  you  will  respect  me  and  give  me  the  obedience 
due  to  your  native  queen  and  lawful  sovereign."*  Then 
Morton,  "  with  great  reverence replied,  "  Madam,  here  is 
the  place  where  your  grace  should  be ;  and  we  will  honor, 
serve  and  obey  you  as  ever  the  nobility  of  this  realm  did 
any  of  your  progenitors  before."f 

But  scarcely  had  the  black  hypocrite  thus  spoken  when 
the  already  prepared  coarse  cries  broke  out,  "  Burn  her ! 
burn  the  murderess !"  She  was  not  frightened,  but  turning 
to  him,  asked  "  What  is  your  purpose,  my  Lord  of  Morton  ? 
If  it  be  the  blood  of  your  princess  you  desire,  take  it !  I 
am  here  to  offer  it,  nor  need  you  other  means  to  seek  to  be 
revenged."  "  Then,"  says  the  same  authority,  "  the  earl 
took  her  and  committed  her  to  safe  custody. "J 

She  was  led  before  the  banner  they  had  prepared  for  the 
occasion,  and  which  bore  the  likeness  of  Darnley  lying 
dead  beneath  a  tree,  with  the  young  James  kneeling  with 
clasped  hands  beside  it,  and  praying  "Judge  and  aveng€ 

•  StriiOkUiid,  T.  289.  t  Chalmers, !.  167.  %  Strickland,  t.  201. 


The  Trick  is  Won. 


267 


our  cause,  0  Lord !"  Behind  this  was  she  marched  into 
Edinburg,  the  brutal  troopers  reviling  her  as  she  went, 
until  restrained  by  the  drawn  sword  of  Kirkaldy.  Some- 
times she  almost  swooned  with  anguish  ;  sometimes  shed 
torrents  of  irrepressible  tears,  and  at  other  moments 
broke  out  into  fits  of  unavailing  anger,  threatening  the 
traitors  with  her  vengeance.  Her  vengeance,  poor  power- 
less, broken-hearted  woman. 

The  base  mob  hooted  as  she  passed  along  the  streets  tc 
her  first  lodgings  in  the  Provost's  house,  the  common 
prison  of  Edinburg,  but  the  better  part  of  the  citizens, 
aroused  by  her  cries,  would  have  stormed  the  house  and 
rescued  her,  if  she  had  not  been  persuaded  to  pacify  them. 
When  the  night  fell,  preceded  by  the  horrible  banner 
and  guarded  by  twelre  hundred  men,  she  was  conducted  to 
Holyrood  ;  and  at  midnight  she  was  delivered  into  the 
hands  of  Lord  Patrick  Lyndsay,  the  remorseless  and  fanatic 
ruflSan,  and  of  Lord  Ruthven,  brutal  and  drunken  stabber 
of  David  Riccio,  and  by  them  carried  over  the  dark  wave* 
of  the  Frith  of  Forth  to  where  the  castle  of  the  Douglaa 
frowned  grimly  over  the  deep  waters  of  Lochleven.* 

It  w^as  held  by  the  heir  of  Morton,  and  Queen  Mary's 
gaoler  was  the  mother  of  the  base-born  Murray.  June 
11th.  at  midnight. 

Get  ready  to  come  home  now,  Earl  of  Murray,  for  th^ 
cards  are  played  out  and  the  trick  is  won, 

*  Ubanoff,  tU.  ISa. 


Chapter  XXIV 


The    Breaking    of    the  Sceptre 
July  24th,  1567. 

We  have  seen  Queen  Mary  enter  her  capital,  "  worn  oul 
with  fatigue,  covered  with  dust,  bedewed  with  tears  and 
exposed  as  a  spectacle  to  her  own  subjects.  Notwithstand* 
ing  all  her  arguments  and  entreaties,  the  same  standard 
was  carried  before  her,  and  the  same  insults  and  reproa-chea 
repeated."* 

"  In  the  morning,  the  first  display  that  the  queen's  weary 
eyes  beheld  from  the  windows  of  her  prison  was  the  same 
banner."!  "  The  rebels  having  kept  the  queen  that  night 
under  a  strong  guard  in  the  provost's  gaol,  the  honest  part 
of  the  citizens  crowded  to  the  place  threatening  to  set  hei 
at  liberty.  To  prevent  this  required  all  the  address  of  the 
conspirators  ;  thereupon,  with  well  feigned  grief,  they  pre 
tended  they  were  sorry  for  giving  her  cause  to  complain 
assured  her  that  they  never  intended  to  deprive  her  oj  Itei 

^  Robertson,  178.  t  Chalmers,  L 163. 


Breaking  of  the  Sceptre.  269 


freedom  and  would  instantly  restore  her  to  her  own  palace 
of  Holyrood  house."*  Among  these  assurers  "  were  Mor- 
ton, Lindsay  and  Maitland.f 

"  Sche  came  yesterday,"  writes  Archbishop  Beaton  n,  to 
ane  windo  of  hir  chalmer  that  lukkit  on  the  hiegait,  and 
cry  it  forth  on  the  pepill,  quhow  sche  was  haldin  in  prison 
and  keepit  be  her  awin  subjectis  quha  had  betrayit  hir 
Sche  came  to  the  said  windo  sundrie  times,  in  sa  miserable 
a  stait,  hir  hairs  hangand  about  hir  loggs  (ears),  and  hir 
breest,  that  na  man  luk  upon  hir  hot  sche  movit  him 
to  pi  tie  and  compassioun.  For  my  ain  part,  I  was  satisfeit 
to  heir  of  it,  and  raeight  not  suffer  to  see  it."J 

Meantime,  the  burgesses  and  craftsmen  of  the  good  city 
were  crowding  beneath  her  windows,  grim  in  their  silent 
Scottish  anger,  their  "dour  wrath,"  waiting  for  the 
moment  when  their  own  blue  banner  should  appear,  to 
sack  the  house  and  free  Queen  Mary. 

On  their  knees  Morton  and  Athol  pleaded;  swore  to 
her  by  God,  their  honor,  and  their  consciences,  that  they 
would  treat  her  as  their  sovereign  if  she  would  dismiss 
the  people,  and  once  more  prevailed  on  her  gentle  and  now 
exhausted  nature  to  pardon  them.  She  appeared  at  the 
I  window,  and  pacified  the  3itia3ns,  while  the  lords  pledged 
their  words  to  thent  that  she  should  be  conducted  to  hei 
palace.§ 

♦  Tytlcr  IL  1T«.  t  Strickland  v.  294-5. 

^Lingard,  yi,  T8.  S  Tytler,  U.  176.  Strickland,  t.  2&Si 


270       Maby,   Queex  of  Scots. 

The  brave  people  believed  them  and  retired,  and  a 
midnight,  the  conspirators  kept  their  word.  They  led  hel 
to  her  palace,  on  foot^  surrouuded  bv  twelve  hundred  men 
at  arms,  and  occupied  more  than  an  hour  in  a  walk  of  ten 
minutes.  Two  of  her  Maries,  Seton  and  Livingstone, 
walked  close  behind  her;  but  Morton's  rabble  yelled  at 
her  as  she  passed  and  hired  strumpets  sate  on  their  brothel 
door-steps  and  shrieked  with  harsh,  drunken  voices,  "  Bum 
her!  drown  herT 

The  Queen  of  Scotland  turned  to  the  scum  populace  of 
her  capital  and  fearlessly  confronted  them.  "  I  am  mno- 
cent,**  she  said,  "I  have  done  nothing  worthy  of  blame. 
Why  am  I  handled  thus,  seeing  I  am  a  true  princess 
and  your  native  sovereign.  You  are  deceived  by  false 
traitors.  Good  Christian  people,  either  take  my  life  or 
free  me  from  their  cruelty."* 

So  was  the  traitors'  promise  kept ;  so  did  they  conduct 
their  Sovereign  to  the  palace  of  her  fathers,  and  thence  at 
midnight,  "  stript  of  her  princely  attire  and  ornaments  and 
clothed  in  a  coarse  woollen  cassock,"!  she  was  delivered 
to  Ruthven  and  Lindsay  to  be  carried  to  Lochleven  Castle. 

Those  good  men  hastened  and  not  without  need,  for 
Seton  and  Home  and  a  dozen  other  lords  and  gentlemen 
were  "  up  for  the  Queen."  When  Mary  reached  the  shores 
of  the  loch,  she  refused  to  enter  the  boat,  and  wept  and 


•atrickland,  t.  901 


tTytler,B.in: 


Bbeaking  of  the  Sceptek.  271 

struggled,  till  they  flung  her  into  it,  and  so  they  gained 
the  castle  before  her  loyal  friends  reined  up  their  smoking 
steeds  upon  the  bank. 

The  castle  stands  upon  an  island  of  about  five  acrea 
in  extent,  in  the  midst  of  a  rough  Scottish  loch  some  four- 
teen miles  in  circumference.  It  is  quadrangular  and  has 
two  towers,  the  central  square,  the  corner  one  octagonal. 
On  three  sides  it  is  washed  by  the  deep  waters,  on  the 
fourth,  a  garden  lies  within  the  wall.  Her  place  was  in  the 
octagon  tower  which  had  but  two  outlets,  one  a  window 
high  up  and  on  the  lake,  the  other  a  door  leading  unto 
the  apartments  occupied  by  the  family. 

Her  gentle  keeper  "  the  Lady  Lochlevin,  Murray  the 
the  Bastard's  mother  received  her  from  the  grim  barons 
who  had  brought  her  and  welcomed  her  with  these  kind 
wordft : — "  Madam,  ye  are  but  an  usurper,  and  my  son,  the 
Earl  of  Murray,  is  rightful  King  of  Scotland  and  legiti- 
mate heir  of  James  V." 

Mary,  without  looking  at  her  only  replied,  that  even 
Murray  "  was  too  honest  to  to  say  so  himself,"f  and  then 
she  passed  into  her  apartments  and  the  doors  were  closed 
and  barred  upon  her. 

June  23. — Monsieur  de  Villeray  ambassador  from  hia 
most  Christian  Majesty  Charles  IX.  of  France,  and  Sir 
Nicholas  Throckmorton  ambassador  of  Elizabeth  of  Eng 


•TytlerHlTT. 


t8tricKUtid,y.  8(& 


272 


MarY;  Queen  of  Scots. 


land,  apply  for  permission  to  deliver  their  credentials  to 
the  Queen  of  Scotland,  or  even  to  see  her.  But  the 
requests  of  both  are  refused. 

June  26-27. — The  lords  of  the  Secret  Council  pro- 
claim Both  well  a  murderer  and  traitor,  and  send  Sir 
William  Kirkaldy  of  the  Grange  to  arrest  him — eleven 
days  after  his  riding  forth  alone  from  the  fore  front  of 
their  army.  They  did  not  want  to  take  him.  He  knew 
too  much.  Kirkaldy  misses  him,  but  takes  Talla,  Hay, 
Powrie  and  Dalgleish,  who  are  tried,  confess  Bothwell's 
guilt,  protest  the  Queen's  innocence  and  are  hanged  for 
the  murder  of  King  Henry  Darnley.  Bothwell  escapes 
then  to  die  in  Malvoe. 

July  18. — The  Lords  of  the  Secret  Council  propose  to 
the  Queen,  to  disavow  her  marriage  with  Bothwell ;  she 
replies  that  she  was  married  by  their  leading  minister  Mr. 
Craig,  and  by  Adam  Bothwell  Bishop  of  Orkney,*  and  that 

♦  This  Adam  Bothwell  must  not  be  taken  for  a  real  bishop.  I  will  not  say 
why,  but  will  let  Mary's  strong  Scotch  Presbyterian  enemy,  the  great  historian 
Robertson,  take  my  place. 

"  On  the  death  of  the  Archbishop  of  Saint  Andrew's,  Morton  obtained  from 
the  Crown,  (t.  e.  from  the  Infant  for  whom  he  was  regent),  a  grant  of  the  tern* 
poralities  of  that  See,  but  as  it  was  thought  indecent  for  a  layman  to  hold  a 
benefice  to  which  the  cure  of  souls  was  annexed,  he  procured  Douglas  (Pro- 
testant) rector  of  the  University  of  Saint  Andrew's,  to  be  chosen  Archbishop  ; 
»nd,  allotting  him  a  small  pension  out  of  the  revenues  of  the  See,  retained 
the  remainder  in  his  own  hands.  The  nobles,  who  saw  the  advantage  they 
might  reap  from  It,  sustained  him  in  the  execution  of  this  plan.  It  would  havii 
be«n  rash  in  the  clergy  (of  the  New  Religion),  to  have  irritated  too  much 
noblemen  upon  whom  the  very  exifftenoe  of  the  Protestant  Church  qf  Scot' 


Breaking  of  the  Sceptre.  273 


she  will  do  nothing  which  may  blight  the  fair  fame  of  thfl 
child  (BothwelPs),  which  she  thinks  she  bears  in  her  bosom.* 

Let  us  return  to  Mary  at  Lochleven : 

The  day  after  her  incarceration,  the  rebels  seized  upon  al] 
ner  plate,  jewels,  dresses  and  other  personal  property  in 
Ilolyrood,  among  which  was  probably  the  "silver  gilt 
casket,"  afterwards  used  for  their  letters.  And  the  booty 
they  took  was  coined  into  money  to  pay  their  own  rebel 
lious  troops  with. 

In  Edinburg  her  French  servants  were  besieging  the 
house  of  du  Croc  for  food,  and  he  broke  open  a  box  of 
plate  which  she  had  given  him  to  keep,  and  with  the  pro- 
ceeds sent  them  back  to  France. 

A  party  was  formed  for  the  queen  and  had  their  head* 
quarters  at  Hamilton. 

Murray  was  waiting  for  Elizabeth's  permission  to  return 
and  ascend  the  throne,  f 

kmd  dep&ndedf  and  it  was  at  last  agreed  in  a  convention  composed  of  leading 
men  among  the  clergy ^  together  with  a  committee  of  the  Privy  Comicil, 
•That  the  name  and  office  of  Archbishop  and  Bishop  should  be  continued 
during  the  King's  minority,  and  these  dignities  be  conferred  among  the  best 
qualified  of  the  Protestant  ministers.  Knox  agreed  with  this  decision,  and,  in 
consequence  of  the  Assembly's  consent  to  the  plan  agreed  upon  in  this  conven- 
Uon,  Douglas  was  installed  in  his  ofl&ce  and  at  the  same  time  an  Arc^ 
bishop  of  Glasgow,  and  a  Bishop  of  Dunkeld  were  chosen  from  among 
the  Protestant  clergy.  They  were  all  admitted  into  the  place  in 
Parliament  which  belonged  to  the  ecclesiastical  order.  But  in  imitation  of 
the  example  set  by  Morton,  such  bargains  were  made  with  them  by  different 
noblemen."— /?o?»6r^.sori,  p.  220,  Harper's  Edition^  1855. 

♦Labanoflf,  iL  59.  t  Strickland,  v.  810.— A^ote. 


274       Mary,  Queen  of  Soots. 

On  tha  day  of  her  being  led  into  captivity,  John  Knox, 
Chief  Apostle  of  the  Scottish  Reformation,  who  had  fled 
the  country  at  the  time  of  Riccio's  murder,  reappeared  in 
Edinburg  and  resumed  his  sacred  functions  as  follows : 

*'This  day,"  July  19,  writes  Throckmorton  to  Elizabeth, 
'  I  was  at  Mr.  Knox's  sermon,  who  took  a  piece  of  Scrip- 
mre  forth  of  the  books  of  the  Kings,  and  did  inveigh 
vehemently  against  the  queen,  and  persuaded  extremities 
towards  her  by  application  of  his  text."*  And  the  same 
good  minister  of  Christ,  according  to  the  same  letter,  con- 
tinued to  "  pour  it  out  cannon  hot "  against  his  defenceless 
queen,  branding  her  openly  from  St.  Giles'  pulpit  as  a 
murderess,  coupled  with  the  coarsest  terms  of  vituperation 
and  denouncing  the  "  great  plagues  of  God  to  Scotland  if 
ihe  were  spared^'^\  Very  eloquent  he  must  have  been, 
according  to  Dr.  Robertson's  quotation  from  Melville.J 
That  scoundrelly  and  sneaking  traitor  writes  with  a  nasal* 
ity  of  hypocrisy  that  one  can  almost  hear : 

"  Of  all  the  benefits  I  had  that  year,  was  the  coming  of 
that  most  notable  prophet  and  apostle  of  our  nation,  Mr. 
John  Knox,  to  St.  Andrew's.  I  heard  him  teach  there  the 
prophecies  of  Daniel  that  summer  and  the  winter  follow- 
ing. I  had  my  pen  and  little  book  and  took  away 
tuch  things  as  I  could  comprehend.  In  the  opening  of  his 
text  he  was  moderate  the  space  of  half  an  hour^  but  when 
he  entered  into  application,  he  made  me  so  grue  and 

•  ftarlckland,  y.  881.  f  Ibid.  888.  X  RobertsoB«  SSL 


Breaking  of  the  Sceptre.  27S 


tremble  that  I  could  not  hold  the  pen  to  write.  He  was 
very  weak.  1  saw  him  every  day  of  his  doctrine  go 
slowly  and  fair,  with  a  furring  of  matticks  about  his  neck, 
a  staflf  in  one  hand,  and  good,  godly  Mr.  Richard  Bellen- 
den  holding  him  up  by  the  oxter  from  the  abbey  to  the 
parish  kirk :  and  he,  the  said  Richard,  and  another  ser 
vant  lifted  him  up  into  the  pulpit,  where  he  behoved  to  lean 
at  his  first  entry :  but  ere  he  was  done  with  his  sermon,  he 
was  so  active  and  vigorous  that  he  was  like  to  din^  the 
pulpit  in  blads  and  fly  out  of  it." 

Daily  these  generous  gentlemen  sent  intimations  to  their 
victim  that  she  should  be  removed  to  an  old  tower  in  Loch- 
even,  and  shut  up  to  perish ;  or  that  she  should  be  stifled 
between  two  beds,  and  her  body  hung  to  the  bed-post,  af» 
if  she  had  committed  suicide.* 

Finally,  when  their  own  good  time  had  come,  they  sent 
sneaking  Melville,  her  treacherous  ambassador,  and  brutal 
Lord  Patrick  Lyndsay  of  the  Byres,  the  assassin  of  Riccio, 
the  first  to  wheedle,  the  second  to  compel  her  renunciation 
of  the  crown,  her  abdication  of  the  throne. 

Sir  Robert  Melville  was  not  one  of  the  ruflSans  who  had 
•tained  her  garments  with  the  blood  of  her  secretary :  he 
was  guiltless  of  Darnley's  murder  and  had  no  part  in  Both- 
well's  cruel  abduction,  nor  in  the  taking  up  arms  against 
her.  He  was  simply  a  sneaking  spy,  paid  by  the  English 
governipeDt  to  keep  in  Mary's  confidence  and  reveal  all  hi 


276       Mabt,  Queen  of  Scots 


could  learn  to  the  crafty  Cecil  and  the  sanguinary  Eliza- 
beth. He  dunned  Elizabeth  for  money  to  pay  her  other 
tools  in  Scotland.  He,  when  with  the  lords  of  the  Secret 
Councic  informs  Cecil  of  their  perfect  adherence  to  the 
Queen  of  England,  and  request^^.hat  their  pay  may  be  sent 
by  Throckmorton,  or  as  he  elegantly  orthographises  him 
"Sir  Nicholas  FragmatonP  He  informs  Cecil  that  the 
lords  will  accord  to  keep  the  prince  (James  VI.)  and  to 
her  Highness's  (Elizabeth's)  desire  put  him  in  custody  of 
her  Majesty.* 

Patrick,  Lord  Lyndsay  we  know  as  exciting  the  popu- 
lace to  murder  Mary's  chaplain  the  first  day  of  her  arrival 
in  Scotland ;  as  an  assassin  of  David  Riccio ;  as  a  signer 
of  Both  well's  various  "bonds,"  and  as  a  religious  fanatic  to 
whom  Habbakkuk  Mucklewrath  or  Gabriel  Kettledrummle 
were  but  lambs. 

These  two  then,  the  sneak  and  the  bully,  bore  to  Queen 
Mary  the  prisoner,  the  ultimatum  of  the  rebel  lords. 

She  must  abdicate  in  favor  of  her  son  as  king  and  of 
Murray  as  Regent,  or  they  would  charge  her  with  adultery, 
the  murder  of  Darnley  and  tyranny. 

Well  then,  behold  them  arrived  at  Lochleven  Castle, 
these  two  gentlemen.    Melville,  sleek  and  smooth  in  his 
sad-colored  doublet  and  trunk  hose,  with  his  little,  neat 
dress  sword  at  his  side ;  and  Lyndsay,  dark-browed,  trucu 
lent,  dirty  and  cased  in  steel  from  crest  to  jingling  spur. 

•  Strickland,  t.  8<»-8ia 


Bbeakino  of  the  Sceptee. 


277 


They  are  ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  queen  by 
Lady  Lochlevin,  ex-mistress  of  King  James  V.,  and  her 
Bons,  Sir  William,  and  Mr.  George  Douglas. 

Melville  went  first  and  strove  to  coax  Queen  Mary 
into  an  abdication  of  her  rights.  He  failed  and  then  the 
wild  beast  Lyndsay  burst  in,  to  add,  by  his  infuriate  howls, 
to  the  terrors  of  the  broken-hearted  woman.  He  flung  the 
deeds  before  her  on  the  table,  and  with  rough  vehemence, 
ordered  her  to  sign. 

"  What !"  said  the  royal  lady,  "  shall  I  set  my  hand  to  a 
deliberate  falsehood,  and,  to  gratify  the  ambition  of  my 
nobles,  relinquish  the  oflSce  God  hath  given  me  to  my  son, 
an  infant  little  more  than  a  year  old,  incapable  of  govern- 
ing, that  my  brother  Murray  may  reign  in  his  name 

Lyndsay  scowled  on  her  with  a  laugh  of  mingled  hate 
and  scorn,  and  said : 

"  If  you  sign  not  these  instruments,  I  will  do  it  with  your 
heart's  blood  and  cast  you  into  the  loch  to  feed  the  fishes." 

She  burst  into  a  flood  of  wild  hysterical  tears,  wailing 
out  only  this : 

"  Alas  ?  I  am  not  yet  five-and-twenty 

Then  snake  Melville  hissed  in  her  ears,  "  Sign  Madam, 
to  save  your  life." 

She  wept  more  bitterly,  but  would  not  sign.  And  then 
Lyndsay  with  his  steel-clad  hand  griped  her  white  arm, 
till  the  blood  rose  at  the  violence,  thrust  the  pen  into  her 
fingers  and  once  more  bad«  her  sign.    "He  had  beguD 


278 


Mary,  Qfeen  of  Scots. 


the  matter,"  he  said,  "and  he  would  finish  it  then  and 
there  I" 

Fainting  almost  with  terror,  the  hot  tears  paralyzed 
upon  her  lashes.  Queen  Mary  Stuart  signed  her  abdication. 

Go  now,  false  lords,  unworthy  gentlemen,  defilers  of  youi 
fathers'  noble  names  and  desecrators  of  their  sftcred  dust ; 
go  with  your  ill-gotten  papers  and  render  an  account  of 
your  day's  work,  now  to  your  masters  in  Edinburg  ;  here- 
after unto  God. 

They  are  gone,  and  Mary  stands  there  in  that  wave- 
encircled  fortrass.  She  looks  not  out  over  the  lake  nor 
upward  at  the  sky :  hears  not  the  sough  of  the  midsummer 
air  as  it  shakes  the  purple  bloom  of  the  heather ;  sees  not 
the  hazel-coverts  of  Benarty ;  dreams  not  of  her  sunny 
youth  in  beautiful  France,  nor  of  the  welcoming,  upturned 
faces  that  greeted  her  at  Leith.  She  stands  there  pale, 
wan,  desolate,  frigid,  alone.  The  fatal  pen  still  lies  upon 
the  table;  the  ink  is  undried  yet  upon  its  point.  Her 
cheek  is  colorless  and  cold,  her  brown  eyes  are  distilling 
bitter  tears  and  her  bare  and  bruised  arm  blackens  slcwly 
in  the  air. 

Her  sceptre  is  broken,  her  crown  cast  down,  her  thron6 
dishonored.    L3t  the  curtain  fall  1 


SJTD  OF  FiaaT  BOOK. 


BOOK  II. 


ary,  the  Captive 


O  Domlne  Dens,  spenyl  in  To  t 
Nimo  core  mi  Jesu,  O  liber»  ma  t 
In  dura  catena  et  misera  poemi 

Desidero  Ta 
Longuendo,  gemendo  et  genuflectendo^ 
Adoro,  implozo  ut  liberet  me  I 

Kabt's  Pbayeb. 


J 


Mary    the  Captive, 


Chapter  !• 

Loch. even    and  Langside. 
June  1567 — May  1568. 

Laden  with  the  fruits  of  their  treachery  and  brutality, 
Lindsay  and  Morton  posted  to  Edinburg.  There  in  their 
Lands  were  the  papers  that  robbed  Queen  Mary  of  her 
throae  and  fulfilled  the  designs  of  her  cruel  brother  Mur- 
ray. But  they  were  not  yet  in  condition  to  see  the  light  • 
they  lacked  the  royal  seal,  which  alone  could  give  them 
authenticity.  But  the  seal  was  in  the  keeping  of  Thomas 
Sinclair,  a  loyal  gentleman  who  could  neither  be  coaxed 
nor  intimidated. 

To  him,  however,  Lindsay,  with  a  band  of  armed  fol- 
lowers, carried  the  documents  and  required  him  to  aflSx  the 
seal.    He  however  refused  to  do  so  to  any  papers  of 

importance  "  while  the  queen*«  grace  was  in  ward."  Short 

m 


282       Mart,   Queen  of  Scots. 

time  did  Lindsay  waste  in  arguments.  The  faitiifnl 
keeper  was  seized,  and  notwithstanding  his  energetic  pro 
tests,  the  seal  forced  into  his  hands  and  the  act  compelled 
from  him. 

Meantime,  Kirkaldy  of  Grange  writes  to  Bedford  to 
hasten  Earl  Murray's  return,  and  Cecil  informs  Sir  Robert 
Norris,  English  ambassador  in  Paris,  that  he  must  instantly 
Bend  a  certain  packet  of  letters  to  Murray,  "  whereof  you 
may  not  make  the  Scottish  ambassador  privy;"  that  hia 
return  to  Scotland  is  much  needed,  and  that  he  is  to  be 
supplied  with  as  much  money  as  he  desires.* 

Already  Mary's  plate  and  jewels  had  been  sold,  and  her 
wardrobe  and  those  of  her  ladies  seized  upon.  On  the  29th 
of  July  her  infant  son  was  crowned,  being  then  thirteen 
months  old.  He  lay,  poor  baby,  on  the  throne,  whil< 
round  him  stood  five  rebel  earls,  eight  lords  and  a  great 
company  of  preachers  and  men-at-arms.  The  act  of  abdi- 
cation was  read,  and  Lyndsay  and  Ruthven  swore  that  Mary 
had  signed  it  voluntarily.  The  English  and  French 
ambassadors,  the  Hamiltons  and  other  loyal  lords  refused 
to  be  present,!  and  Throckmorton  answered  : — "  That  Eliza* 
beth  wished  the  young  prince  as  much  honor  as  was 
wished  by  any  one  among  them ;  but  would  never  consent 
that  the  son  should  depose  the  mother  from  the  throne."J 
To  Cecil  he  writes : — "  It  is  to  be  feared  that  this  tragedy 
will  end  in  the  queen's  person,  after  the  coronation,  as  it 

•  BtrlokUnd,    810.         t  Labanoff  fi.  61.         ^  Llngard,  fL 


LOCHLEVEN    AND    LaNQSIDE.  288 


began  in  tbe  person  of  David  the  Italian  and  the  queen'i 
husband."* 

The  child  could  not  take  the  oath,  but  James  Douglas, 
Earl  of  Morton,  his  father's  murderer,  swore  freely  for  him 
The  usual  oath  had  been  improved  for  the  occasion ;  now  it 
provided  that  the  king  "  should  serve  the  Eternal,  his  God 
according  to  His  holy  word,  established  in  the  Kirk^  should 
abolish  and  gainstand  all  false  religion,  and  should  root  oui 
heretics  and  enemies  of  God's  worship  convicted  of  the 
same  by  judgment  of  the  Kirk."f 

Then  John  Knox  preached  a  sermon. 

That  excellent  man  Adam  Both  well  annointed  the  king^ 
in  spite  of  Knox's  protest  against  that  Jewish  rite;  and 
then  followed  the  usual  processions  and  bearing  of  crown 
and  sceptre,  and  James  the  Sixth  was  as  much  king  of  Scot- 
land as  Morton  and  Athol  could  make  him. 

The  Lord  James  Stuart,  Earl  of  Murray,  had  done  all  he 
could  in  France  with  the  Huguenots  and  Catherine  de  Medi- 
cis,J  who  was  then  in  league  with  them,  to  prejudice  his  sis- 
ter's cause.  With  the  young  king,  however,  he  could  do 
nothing.  From  his  veriest  childhood,  Charles  the  Ninth 
had  loved  Mary  better  than  anything  on  earth,§  and  would 
not  now  listen  to  one  syllable  against  her.    So  Murray  lied 

•  Strickland,    880.  t  Lingard.  vl,  80;  Chalmers,  1. 181. 

I  For  the  best  exposition  of  thl?  queen's  fast  and  loose  dealing  with  thf 
Haguenotfi  read  Balzac^s  "  Martyre  CaLviniste.'** 

§  See  page  56. 


284       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

as  usual.  He  even  swore  to  the  king  that  every  eflfbrt  in 
his  power  should  be  used  to  set  her  free  and  to  place  her, 
triumphant,  on  her  throne.*  But  while  swearing  this,  he 
wriles  to  his  sister,  at  Lochleven,  with  a  pretence  of  secrecy 
that  Charles  can  only  make  peace  with  his  subjects  "on  con- 
dition of  sending  her  no  help."f  He  received  a  title  and 
pension  from  the  king  as  the  reward  of  his  future  services 
to  his  sister,J  and  then  returned  to  Elizabeth  to  regulate 
his  plot  with  her  and  so  to  enter  Scotland.§ 

Accordingly,  Sir  Robert  Melville  and  Maitland  are 
dispatched  to  meet  him,  and  he  enters  Edinburg  tri- 
umphan4ily,  on  the  11th  of  August,  156^?.  M.  de  Ligiie- 
rolles  follows  him  as  ambassador  from  Charles,  sues  for 
admission  to  the  queen's  presence,  but  being  refused,  goes 
back  to  his  sovereign  no  wiser  than  he  came. 

Murray  found  that  his  own  party  had  become  bifurcate. 
Morton,  Lindsay  and  the  sterner  brutes  and  crazier  fanatics 
wanted  him  to  take  the  Regency  at  once,  and  to  pass  an  act 
lanctioning  whatever  they  had  done  in  his  absence.  But 
Maitland,  Marr  and  Eirkaldy  perferred  that,  if  possible,  he 
should  come  to  some  arrangement  with  the  queen.  But  he, 
lood  man,  looked  at  them  with  those  still  shadowed  eyes 
^f  his  and  listened,  but  said  nothing. 

On  the  16th  of  August,  however,  taking  Morton  and 
fyndsay  with  him,  he  set  cut  for  Lochleven,  to  visit  thi 


•  Labanoir,  iL  Tt 
X  lingard^  vi.  81. 


t  Chalmers,  ii.  18S. 
S  Labanoff,  ii.  6U 


LOCHLEVEN    AND    LaNGSIDK,  285 


royal  prisoner  there.  She  went  hopefully  to  meet  him,  but 
his  stern  and  inscrutable  face  repulsed  her.  He  was 
cold,  hard  and  unconsoling ;  her  sad  looks,  her  mournful 
voice,  her  ready  tears,  had  no  eflfect  upon  him ;  he  sug- 
gested to  her  the  scaffold  as  the  probable  termination  of 
her  story  ;  and  had  no  greater  comfort  to  bestow  upon  her 
at  parting  after  midnight,  than  to  say  that  "  she  had  noth- 
ing left  to  hope  for  but  God's  mercy,  let  her  seek  that  as 
her  chief  refuge  T'*  And  so  he  left  her,  broken-spirited, 
uncomforted,  almost  in  despair. 

In  the  morning  he  came  again ;  this  time  making  use 
of  some  semblance  of  kindness.  Enfeebled  by  anxiety  and 
a  sleepless  night,  and  terrified  by  his  representations,  the 
poor  lady  at  length  bade  him  accept  the  Regency,  a 
measure  which  he  assured  her  could  alone  secure  her  life 
and  that  of  her  child.  Fortified  with  this,  he  left  her,  bat 
with  no  kinder  parting  speech  than  this : 

"  Madame,  I  will  declare  to  you  which  be  the  occasions 
that  may  put  you  in  jeopardy,  and  which  be  they 
that  may  preserve  you.  First  for  your  peril,  these  be 
they:  your  own  practices  to  disturb  the  quiet  of  the 
realm  and  the  reign  of  your  son  ;  to  enterprize  to  escape 
from  where  you  are,  or  to  put  yourself  at  liberty ;  to  ani- 
mate any  of  your  subjects  to  trouble  or  disobedience,  or  the 
Queen  of  England  or  the  French  King,  to  molest  thia 
realm  either  with  their  war  or  with  war  intestine,  by  your 
procurement  or  otherwise."! 

•  Llngard,  vL  8L  f  Chalmers,  i.  1 8T. 


286       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

To  all  this  she  had  nothing  to  reply  but  tears ;  and  tie 
"good  Lord  James"  went  on  his  way  to  be  proclaimed 
Regent  on  the  22d  August.  He  took  the  same  oath,  "  to 
root  out  heretics,"  which  Morton  had  taken  for  the  baby 
king,  with  his  hand  laid  on  the  Bible,  making  an  inclina- 
tion of  the  body,  and  singing  the  seventy-second  Psalm ; 
the  most  frightful  piece  of  blasphemy  that  even  that  dark 
hypocrite  was  ever  guilty  of.* 

And  new  he  had  reached  his  zenith.  He  was  sole  ruler 
of  Scotland. 

And  first  he  broke  all  the  public  seals  and  dies  which 
bore  the  face  or  title  of  the  queen.  Then  he  purchased 
Edinburg  Castle  (r'm  that  ingenious  traitor  Sir  James  Bal- 
four. The  price  was  £5,000  in  cash ;  the  priory  of  Pitten- 
ween ;  a  pension  for  his  son ;  a  pardon  for  the  king's 
murder,  and  possession,  in  this  world,  of  his  caitifl'  s3ul. 

Wearily,  weaiily  the  hours  of  captivity  crawled  on  in 
the  lake  circled  tower  of  Lochleven.  On  the  24th  of  July, 
the  thirty-seronth  dAy  of  her  captivity,  she  wrote  to  Sir 
Nicholas  TLrockmoTtoa,  thanking  him  for  some  kiml  mes- 
sage, and  stating  the  impossibility  of  writing  witL  free- 
dom. She  dates  it  sadly  "  Ih  ma  pison,  en  la  tx  ur  de 
Loghleviny  To  the  Archbishop  of  Glasgow  she  writes  a 
•hort  note,  begging  the  sympathy  of  France ;  telling  him 
that  she  has  neither  paper  nor  time  to  write  fully,  an^^l  bid- 
ing him  burn  her  letters,  since,  if  found  by  her  enemiwa,  or 
if  they  knew  that  she  was  writing,  it  "  would  cost  many  ih^^ 


LOCHLEVEN    AND    LanGSIDB.  281 


life ;  would  put  hers  in  peril  anc  would  certainly  procire 
for  her  a  severer  prison." 

To  Elizabeth,  on  the  first  of  May,  she  writes,  reminding 
her  of  a  ring  once  sent  by  her,  with  promise  of  instant 
help  in  time  of  need.  The  ring  poor  Mary  cannot  send. 
**You  know,"  she  says,  "that  my  brother  Murray  holds 
all  that  is  mine."  "  Have  pity  then  upon  your  good 
sister  and  cousin,  and  be  assured  that  you  will  find  no 
near  relative  more  affectionate  in  the  world." 

And  to  Catherine  de  Medicis,  saying"!  cannot  write 
fully.  I  am  so  closely  espied  that  I  have  no  time  except 
when  they  are  dining  or  when  I  rise  during  their  slumber, 
for  their  girls  sleep  with  me."  She  declares  that  all  Scot- 
land will  rise  against  Murray  and  Morton  if  troops  are 
sent  from  France,  and  begs  her  mother-in-law's  aid.  She 
dates  it  simply  "From  my  prison,  this  first  of  May."* 

When  Lyndsay  and  Melville  came  to  compel  her  signa- 
ture to  the  deed  of  abdication.  Sir  William  Douglas,  Castel- 
lan of  Lochleven,  indignantly  protested  against  the  insuU 
put  upon  his  house,  and  refused  to  enter  the  Queen's  pres- 
ence with  those  traitors.  His  bitter  mother,  and  his 
younger  brother  George  however  went  in.  The  first  to 
feed  fat  her  ancient  grudge ;  the  second  to  look  on  with 
pitying  wonder  unrtil  he  saw  the  tiger  claws  of  Lyndsay 
clutch  the  white  arm.  From  that  moment  he  vowed  bis 
life  to  the  service  of  his  beautiful  and  suffering  sovereign  • 

•  For  ihe§e  leiiM§  Me  LabtooC,  tL  6a»  6a 


288 


Mart,  Queen  of  Soots. 


and  put  himself  in  communication  with  the  loyal  lords  who 
had  associated  in  the  queen's  name.  These  were  the 
Archbishop  of  St.  Andrew's,  Earls  Argyle  and  Huntley, 
Lords  Ross,  Fleming,  Herries,  etc. 

Dec,  4th, — The  letters "  are  first  mentioned  although 
six  months  old.  An  additional  proof  that  the  very  form 
of  accusation  which  they  were  to  contain  had  not  been 
settled  on  until  now,  will  be  found  in  a  note  at  the  end  of 
this  chapter.  I  diseovered  it  too  late  to  insert  it  in  itt. 
place. 

Dec,  20th, — A^'t  of  Parliament  attainting  Both  well  fo« 
hsLving  forced  the  (jueen. 

March  23cf,  1568. — George  Douglas  makes  his  first 
attempt  to  rescue  Mary  Stuart.  She  was  not  allowed  to 
have  even  a  laundress  in  her  service  and  her  washing  was 
done  upon  the  mainland,  the  woman  going  to  and  fro  in  a 
boat.  Douglas,  Beton,  brother  of  the  Archbishop  of  Glas- 
gow and  others  had  arranged  their  plot  with  this  good 
woman.  In  the  morning  she  arrived  as  usual  at  the  castle, 
and  after  being  searched,  Was  sent  up  stairs  to  the  queen's 
room  before  that  lady  had  risen.  Mary  then  took  her 
cloak,  bonnet  and  muffler  (heavy  veil),  placed  the  laun- 
irefcB  in  her  own  bed,  took  her  basket  and  went  quietly 
down  the  stairs  and  out  at  the  landing.  She  entered 
the  boat  and  had  nearly  reached  the  middle  of  the  lake 
when  one  of  the  boatmen  observed  that  she  kept  her  niuf 
flter  very  close  round  her  face. 


LOCHLEVEN    AND    LaNGSIDE.  289 


Let  us  see  wbat  kind  of  a  damsel  this  is/'  he  said  and 
tried  to  pull  the  veil  aside. 

Two  delicate  snow  white  hands  were  put  up  to  keep  it 
in  its  place. 

"  Ah "  cried  the  man,  "  those  are  no  washerwoman's 
lands  1"  and  they  instantly  stopped. 

Then  Mary  threw  back  her  hood,  called  up  the  sover- 
eign within  her  and  commanded  them  on  their  allegiance 
to  row  to  the  opposite  shore.  But  the  clansmen  of  Loch- 
leven  refused,  although  they  promised  to  say  nothing  about 
it  if  she  would  return  at  once  to  her  chamber.  Thus 
were  her  hopes  of  escape  disappointed ;  with  the  free  air 
of  the  lake  blowing  upon  her ;  the  grand  free  Highland 
nature  all  around  her,  she  must  needs  turn  back  to  her 
prison,  to  the  heartless  stone  walls  of  her  tower  in  the  for 
tress. 

For  this  attempt,  George  Douglas  was  instantly  ordereu 
to  quit  Lochleven.    He  obeyed,  and  took  up  bis  abode  a 
the  village  of  Kinross  on  the  Northern  shore. 

April  27th,  1568,  saw  another  futile  attempt  on  the  part 
of  a  French  ambassador,  M.  de  Beaumont,  to  gain  accesi 
to  the  queen.  In  spite  of  his  formal  promise  to  botl 
Charles  and  Catherine,  Murray  persisted  not  only  in  the 
imprisonment,  but  even  in  the  a'bsolute  seclusion  of  th€ 
queen. 

Thus  then  in  company  with  two  of  her  Maries,  Seton 
and  Liringston,  Madame  Courcelles,  Mademoiselle  KaUaj 


wo       Ma^y,  Queen  of  Scots. 

and  Jane  Kennedy,  the  weary  months,  eleven  of  A<im 
dragged  on  unti'  the  second  of  May,  when  she  sue  .eeded 
in  escaping,  and  for  the  last  time  pressed  her  arched  foot 
'ipon  the  heath  of  her  native  but  disloyal  Scotland 

Sir  William  Douglas,  Castellan  of  Lochleven,  was  as 
we  have  seen  an  un-villing  gao.er,  and  although  he  obeyed 
his  orders,  yet  he  liked  them  none  the  more  m  that 
account.  George  hio  brother  was  at  Kinrosj.,  there 
remained  however  anotVer  of  the  name  in  the  castle,  an 
orphan  boy  of  seventeen,  pdled  William,  or  better  known 
as  the  Little  Douglas.  H«  ''-as  a  quick,  active,  shrewd 
young  fellow,  and  was  devoted  ^o  George  and  to  ine  beau- 
tiful queen. 

It  was  about  seven  in  the  evening  of  Sunday  May  2d, 
while  all  the  household  were  at  supper,  that  tht  younker 
managed  to  possess  himself  of  the  keys  which  by  Sir 
William's  plate  and  to  escape  unnoticed  from  tbe  room. 
His  first  act  was  to  make  captivity  captive,"  by  locking 
the  door  upon  the  family.  Then  he  hastened  to  the 
queen's  apartments,  conducted  her  down  stairs  and  out 
upon  the  landing.  Here  she  found  a  boat  all  ready,  and  she 
and  Jane  Kennedy  with  their  young  deliverer  started  from 
the  castle.  Mary's  own  fair  hands  seized  an  oar  and  lent 
what  aid  they  could  towards  gaining  hei  freedom  So  the 
lake  was  passed,  the  keel  grated  on  the  pebbled  shore, 
Lord  Seaton,  Hamilton,  George  Douglas  and  Beston  rushed 
down  to  welcome  her  as  she  sprang  to  land,  and  getting  at 


LOCHLE VEN 


AND  Langside.  291 


onoe  to  horse,  they  galloped  all  night  to  Hamilton,  some 
seven  or  eight  miles  south  of  Glasg^ow. 

She  never  forgot  those  services  even  to  the  day  of  hei 
death.  George  Douglas  and  Beaton  were  well  rewarded 
and  "the  little  Douglas"  is  a  legatee  in  her  last  will. 

Then  all  who  were  loyal  flocked  to  her  standard,  '\  i;vio, 
Huntley,  Cassilis,  Eglinton  and  Rothes,  the  heads  of  those 
ancient  names  Montrose,  Fleming,  Livingstone,  Setoi.. 
Boyd,  Herries,  Ross,  Maxwell,  Ogilvy  and  Oliphant.  Nine 
belted  earls,  nine  mitred  bishops,  eighteen  powerful  lords 
and  many  gentlemen  came  to  her  at  Hamilton.  In  one 
week  she  had  an  army  of  six  thousand  men. 

Then  the  queen  issued  a  proclamation,  commanding 
Murray  to  give  up  the  regency,  declaring  that  her  signa^ 
ture  to  the  act  of  abdication  had  been  obtained  by  physical 
force,  to  the  truth  of  which  Sir  Robert  Melville,  who  had 
left  Murray's  side  so  soon  as  hers  began  to  look  strong, 
added  his  testimony  as  an  eye-witness. 

The  Regent,  on  his  side,  summoned  all  his  troops,  and 
declared  the  partisans  of  Mary  guilty  of  high  treason. 

Hamilton  was  not  esteemed  sufficiently  secure,  aii4  it  was 
resolved  to  carry  the  queen  to  the  strong  castle  Dum 
Darton  on  the  Clyde;  the  castle  which  had  secu.^d  her 
infancy  in  the  times  of  grim  King  Harry  Bluctmrd. 
Accordingly,  on  the  13th  of  May,  she  and  her  troops  set 
out  from  Hamilton.  But  Murray  had  news  of  her  pro- 
feedings  and  determined  to  cut  her  off  from  so  impre^ 


293 


Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 


nable  a  place  of  refuge.    He  crossed  the  Clyde  to  meet 
her ;  and  the  armie's  caine  face  to  face  at  the  villao^e 
Langside,  about  two  /d^!<5S  ^outh  of  Glasgow. 

The  rebel  forcp  numbered  only  four  thousand,  but  they 
were  well  trainee^  and  equipped.  Murray  himself  was  a  man 
of  unusual  military  talent,  and  Sir  William  Kirkaldy  of  the 
Grange,  his  principal  general,  was  the  best  soldier  in 
Scotland.  The  royal  troops  were  commanded  in  the  main 
body  by  the  Earl  of  Argyle,  the  van  was  led  by  Lord 
Claude  Hamilton  and  the  cavalry  by  Lord  Herries.  She 
desired  to  pass  without  engaging,  but  the  rebel  Lennoxes 
and  the  loyal  Hamiltons  hated  each  other  too  soundly  to 
let  so  favorable  an  opportunity  pass  without  blows. 

Kirkaldy  bade  every  horseman  take  up  a  foot-soldier 
behind  him  and  gallop  to  the  crest  of  a  hill  which  inter- 
vened between  the  forces.  By  this  means  he  obtained  the 
^'•stntage  ground ;  while  Argyle  was  obliged  to  post  his 
iroops  on  a  lower  eminence.  Then  the  roar  of  artillery 
opened  ihe  terrible  drama  and  a  fierce  fire  was  kept  up  foi 
hJilf  an  Hour,  without  doing  much  injury,  however,  to 
citti^r  party.  I  hen  Argyle  gave  the  order  to  charge,  as 
did  the  Earl  ot  Morton  on  his  side.  Down  from  the 
heights  thjndered  t£j*  wrathful  soldiery.  Argyle  was  met 
and  driven  back  1^*  Morton,  but  Herriea  routed  Murray's 
horse.  Then  tho  Dattle  became  general ;  hand-to-hand  and 
foot  to  foot  they  fought  for  half  an  hour  when  the  queen'a 
iroops  began  to  waver  ;  and  then  a  fierce  body  of  Murray'i 


LOOHLEVEN    AND    LaNGSIDE.  293 


Highlanders  joined  the  contest,  and  their  terrible  broad- 
swords and  Lochaber  axes  settled  the  fate  of  the  day.  Ihe 
royal  lines  were  broken,  the  royal  troops  turned  and  fled, 
leaving  three  hundred  dead  upon  the  field  and  their  be*l 
mev  prisoners  in  Murray ^s  hands. 

S  >  was  Queen  Mary  Stuart's  last  battle  fought  and  lost ! 
She  saw  it  all  from  a  neighboring  hill  top,  and  as  her  last 
hop*  of  regaining  the  crown  of  her  fathers  crumbled  into 
pierces  before  her  eyes,  she  burst  into  an  agony  of  tears 
An  1  then  with  small  retinue  southward  she  galloped,  with- 
out rest  or  pause,  full  sixty  miles  to  Dundrennan  Abbey. 

Next  day  she  wrote  a  letter  to  Elizabeth  beseeching  her 
assistance,  and  saying,  "  I  have  been  kept  in  prison,  treated 
vrith  the  last  indignities,  and  now,  chased  from  my  king- 
dom, I  am  reduced  to  such  a  state  that,  after  God,  T  have 
no  hope  except  in  you."* 

Woe's  me,  poor  queen,  you  lean  upon  a  broken  reed, 
whose  jagged,  pitiless  splinters  will  scon  pieroe  your  heart 
and  drip  red  with  your  very  life-blood 

On  the  16th  she  determined  to  go  to  Ekjgiand  and  throw 
herself  upon  Elizabeth's  sense  of  justice.  Faithful  Lord 
Herries  besought  her  to  go  to  FrE*nce,  but  she  would  not 
listen  :  Hamilton,  Archbishop  of  St.  Andrew's,  flung  him- 
self upon  his  knees  and  implored  her  for  the  love  of  God 
not  to  trust  the  Queen  of  England ;  but  her  dark  fate  lay 
in  that  land  and  she  must  go  to  meet  it.    So  with  a  small 

^  Labanofl;  li.  7L 


294 


Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 


retinue  of  a  score  of  persons,  she  embarked  that  fatal  Sundaj 
(May  16th)  in  a  fishing  boat,  and  sailed  away  across  the 
Frith  of  Sol  way  from  the  Scottish  coast,  never  to  see  itfi 
blue  lochs  and  heathry  hills  again  for  evermore 


Note, — Murray  when  in  France,  writing  to  the  Spanish 
ambassador  said,  "He  felt  exceedingly  for  the  imprison- 
ment of  the  queen,  but  had  always  anticipated  evil  from 
her  connection  with  Both  well.  There  was  even  in  exis- 
tence a  letter  of  three  sheets  of  paper  written  by  her  with 
her  ow^n  hand  to  Both  well,  in  which  she  urged  him  to  put 
in  execution  the  pUan  concerted  between  them  for  the  death 
of  Darnley,  by  giving  him  a  potion  or  by  hurning  him  in 
Ms  house,  quemando  la  casa.  He,  Murray,  had  not  indeed 
seen  the  letter,  but  he  knew  the  fact  from  one  who  bad  read 
the  original."  So  that  as  yet  the  conspirators  had  only  got 
up  one  letter  out  of  the  eight,  and  the  very  language  of  that 
was  still  undetermined. —  Vide  chap,  xviii.  For  the  &bov« 
quotation  see  Lingard,  vi.  81,  note. 


Chapter  II. 


From  Carlisle  to  Bolton 
1568. 

tf  ARY  first  set  her  foot  on  English  ground,  at  Working 
ton  in  Cumberland.  From  this  place  she  dispatched 
Beton  with  the  ring  mentioned  in  her  letter  quoted  ii* 
the  last  chapter,  and  bade  Lord  Herries  write  to  Lowther^ 
the  English  Warden  of  Carlisle.  That  gentleman  encour 
aged  her  to  come  on,  and  with  Lord  Scroope  came  to  meet 
her.  She  had  but  the  one  coarse  robe  and  not  one  shilling 
in  her  pocket. 

Before  leaving  Workington  she  wrote  a  long  letter  tc 
(he  English  queen,  rehearsing  the  whole  story  of  her  sor- 
rows since  the  death  of  Riccio,  a  resumed  of  the  melancholy 
history  of  the  twelvemonth.  She  accuses  the  rebel 
leaders  of  the  king's  murder,  and  tells  her  cousin  that  she 
has  come  to  England  to  seek  justice  at  her  hands.  "I 
implore  you  to  send  for  me  soon,''  she  says,  "  for  I  am  in 


296       Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 


K  most  piteous  condition,  not  only  for  a  queen  but  even  fbi 
a  simple  gentlewoman.  I  have  nothing  on  earth  but  my 
person,  just  as  I  escaped  by  a  ride  of  sixty  miles  the  first 
lay.  Since  then  I  have  only  dared  to  travel  at  night,  as  1 
will  show  you  if  it  please  you  to  have  pity  on  ray  extreme 
misfortune,  which  I  will  cease  to  bewail  now,  lest  I  shoulJ 
annoy  you  ;  and  I  pray  God  to  grant  you  liealth,  a  long 
and  happy  life,  and  to  me  patience  and  the  consolation 
which  I  hope  for  at  your  hands."* 

To  this  touching  appeal  Elizabeth  was  content  to  order 
the  sheriff  and  judges  of  the  peace  to  treat  the  royal  refugew 
with  all  possible  respect,  but  at  the  same  time  to  watch  hei 
closely  and  be  particularly  careful  to  prevent  her  escape, 
Cecil  wrote  also  to  assure  Mary  of  her  cousin's  kind  and 
sympathetic  feeling  for  her :  and  Lady  Scroope,  sister  of 
the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  was  sent  with  some  other  gentle- 
women to  attend  her.  Sir  Francis  Knollys  who  brought 
these  letters  tells  Cecil  that  Mary  is  a  rare  woman.  For, 
as  no  flattery  can  abuse  her,  so  no  plain  speech  seems  to 
offend  her  if  she  thinks  the  speaker  an  honest  man."f 

By-and-by  a  respectable  household  gathered  about  her 
and  she  took  what  comfort  she  could  at  Carlisle.  But  on 
the  28th  of  May,  the  Earl  and  Countess  of  Lennox  pre- 
sented themselves  before  the  English  sovereign  and  accused 
Queen  Mary  of  complicity  in  Darnley's  guilt.  At  thij 
time  the  countess  was  thoroughly  under  the  persuasions  of 

•  Labanotr,  li  76.  t  Chalmers,  L  ^OBi 


From  Carlisle  to  Boltcn.  297 


bei  cousin-gennan  the  Earl  of  Morton.  A  few  years  latef 
however  she  found  him  out,  and  in  her  lovinsr  and  tendei 
letter  to  her  royal  daughter-in-law  calls  hira  "  the  wicked 
governor."* 

Mary  remained  at  Carlisle  until  the  16th  of  July,  when 
in  spite  of  all  her  protestations  to  the  contrary,  she  was 
removed  to  Bolton  Castle. 

This  intervening  time  was  however  busily  occupied  in 
writing  letters  to  France  and  England.  She  sent  Lord 
Fleming  to  represent  her  condition  to  Charles  Ninth,  Mary 
de  Medicis  and  the  cardinal  of  Lorraine,  showing  them  the 
extreme  difficulties  of  her  position.  Elizabeth  promises  to 
replace  her  upon  the  throne  on  condition  that  she  will  ask 
no  help  from  France  and  England,  yet  she  cannot  feel  full 
confidence  in  the  promises  of  ihat  queen,  and  is  therefore 
undecided  what  course  to  pursue.  Only,  Lord  Fleming  is 
instructed,  in  case  of  failure  with  the  English  court  to  im- 
plore aid  from  France,  and  particularly  to  ask  her  uncle 
Lorraine's  help  to  recompense  those  loyal  subjects  who 
had  suffered  in  her  cause.f 

Later  on  the  21st  of  June  when  Elizabeth's  plans  began 
to  be  more  clearly  shown,  she  herself  writes  to  the  king,  the 
cardinal  and  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  mentioning  her  suspicions^ 
protesting  that  she  is  suffering  for  religion's  sake,J  and  ask- 
ing their  protection.  Clearer  and  clearer,  as  the  days 
advance  grow  the  schemes  of  her  wily  enemy.    She  tells 

Strickland,  v.  881.  t  Labanoff,  ii  85, 90.  t  Ibl<i  It  ItS. 


298       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

the  king,  June  26th,  that  it  appears  settled  to  keep  hci 
a  prisoner  in  England  and  entreats  him  to  prevent  that; 
while  under  the  same  date  she  laments  to  Catharine  her 
utter  destitution  and  poverty.  Every  one  of  these  letters 
contains  sentiments  of  the  most  heartfelt  gfratitude  to  Flem 
ing,  Seton,  Herries,  the  Douglases  and  Beaton,  with 
entreaties  to  her  French  kinsfolk  to  do  something  for  those 
gentlemen,  who  had  lost  all  for  her.* 

Not  unmindful  of  her  duties  as  sovereign,  she  issues  a 
warrant  empowering  Lord  Herries  to  form  leagues  and 
raise  troops  for  her  in  Scotland,  and  creates  the  Duke  of 
Chatelherault,  lieutenant-general  of  that  kingdom. 

We  must  trace  Elizabeth's  course  with  her  unfortunate 
and  too  confidinof  relative.  We  learn  that  on  the  28th 
May,  Mary  thanks  Elizabeth  for  a  promise  of  assistance, 
and  that  on  the  same  day  that  queen  receives  from  the 
Earl  and  Countess  of  Lennox  an  accusation  against  her. 
Elizabeth  promises  faithfully  that  if  no  recourse  be  had  to 
France  she  will  furnish  Mary  "with  troops, money, artillery 
and  all  else  necessary,  in  case  that  my  Lord  of  Murray  and 
his  colleagues  refuse  to  accord  peaceably  with  such  propo- 
sitions as  the  queen  of  Scotland  may  think  good  to  make."f 

But  on  the  13th  of  June,  in  spite  of  Mary's  reiterated 
prayer,  Middlemore  brings  a  letter  from  Elizabeth  positively 
refusing  to  admit  her  to  her  presence,  until  she  should  prove 

•  Letters  and  warrants  will  be  found  In  Labanoflf,  il  84r-18«, 
t  lAbanoff,  IL  86. 


Fbohi  Carlisle  to  Bolton.  299 


herself  guiltless  of  Darnley's  murder.*  To  this  Mary 
Stuart  replies  (June  30)  : 

"  Madam,  my  good  sister,  I  thank  you  for  the  desire  you 
manifest  to  hear  the  justification  of  my  honor,  which  is  ol 
importance  to  all  princes,  and  principally  to  you  whose  blood 
kinswoman  I  am.  Where,  madam,  have  you  ever  heard  a 
prince  blamed  for  listening  in  person  to  the  complaint  of 
one  who  mourns  at  beino-  falsclv  accused.  Banish  from 
your  mind,  madam,  the  idea  that  I  am  come  hither  for  the 
safety  of  my  life,  since  neither  the  world  nor  all  Scotland 
have  yet  renounced  me.  But  I  am  come  for  the  defence  of 
my  honor,  to  get  aid  in  punishing  my  fi^lse  accusers ;  I  am 
not  to  reply  to  them  as  their  equal,  for  I  know  they  should 
not  be  heard  against  their  sovereign,  but  to  accuse  them 
before  yoii,  whom  I  have  chosen  from  among  all  other 
princes  as  my  nearest  relative  and  friend  ;  to  do  you  honor 
as  I  supposed,  in  making  you  the  restoress  of  my  crown,  to 
give  you  all  the  honor  and  my  own  good-will  throughout 
life ;  to  make  you  see  with  your  own  eyes,  my  innocence, 
and  how  falsely  I  have  been  dealt  with.  I  see,  however,  to 
my  great  regret  that  another  interpretation  has  been 
given  to  my  acts. 

You  say  you  are  counselled  by  people  of  high  quality  to 
be  careful  about  this  affair.    Please  God,  madam,  I  wh(f 
Bought  the  contrary,  will  not  be  the  cause  of  your  dishonor 
Be  pleased,  therefore,  since  my  afiairs  require  haste,  to  let 
•  J^snoff,  iL,  M. 


800 


Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 


me  8€€  whether  other  princes  will  act  thus ;  and  so  you  wili 
not  be  blamed.  Permit  me  to  seek  those  who  will  receivi 
me  without  such  fear." 

Mary  then  complains  of  being  imprisoned  already  as  !t 
were  by  Elizabeth,  and  complains  of  her  favoring  the  rebelt 
while  restricting  their  innocent  queen.  She  remind* 
Elizabeth,  tliat  at  her  own  earnest  intercession  those  rebels 
were  pardoned  who  now  seek  her  (Mary's)  ruin. 

"  Excuse  me,  but  I  must  speak  to  you  without  dissimula- 
tion ;  you  received  my  bastard  brother  into  your  presence, 
when  a  fiiijitive  from  me,  and  vou  refuse  the  like  favor  to 
me,  delaying  it  the  longer,  it  seems  to  me,  because  wijf 
cause  is  a  just  one.  Aid  me  therefore,  I  pray  you,  making 
me  owe  you  all,  or  let  me  seek  elsewhere  for  help  and  be 
you  neutral ;  tor  by  thus  delaying  my  aflfairs  you,  more 
than  my  enemies,  accomplish  ray  ruin."* 

Meanwhile,  Middlemore  goes  to  Murray  and  cites  him 
to  appear  before  Elizabeth  to  answer  Mary's  charge  of  high 
treason.  Knollys  writes  frequently  to  Cecil  to  know 
whether  the  Queen  of  Scx)ts  be  a  prisoner  or  no,  but  geta 
no  answer.f  The  arrival  of  an  hundred  harquebussiers, 
however,  and  the  increasing  severity  of  Lord  Scrope'i 
rigilance  enlighten  the  queen.  The  fortifications  of  Car- 
lisle were  strengthened ;  she  was  not  allowed  to  ride  out 
any  distance,  for,  writes  Knollys : 

**Once  she  rode  out  hunting  the  hare,  she  galloping  Bt 

•Ub«ooa;Q.NL  t  ai&Imen,l  206;. 


Fkom  Carlisle  to  Bolton.  301 


fiist  on  every  occasion,  and  her  whole  retinue  being  so  well 
horsed  that  we,  doubting  that  some  of  her  friends  out  of 
Scotland  might  invade  and  assault  us  on  a  sudden,  so  as  to 
rescue  and  take  her  from  us,  mean  thai  she  must  hold  us 
excused  in  that  behalf.*** 

Again  Mary  addresses  her  relative,  telling  her  that  she 
has  received  absolute  proofs,  and  citing  them,  of  Murray's 
perfect  understanding  with  the  English  ministry  to  keep  her 
in  captivity  :  requests  again  permission  to  appeal  to  other 
crowned  heads  :  sends  her  copies  of  the  letters  she  desires 
to  lay  before  the  Emperor  and  King  of  France  and  Spain ; 
asks  leave  for  Lord  Fleming  to  carry  them,  and  concludes 
with  a  solemn  warning.]- 

And  again,  June  21st.  The  same  things  over  again, 
mingled  with  bitter  complaints  of  the  sufierings  of  the 
loyalists  in  Scotland :  of  the  double-dealing  of  Middle- 
more  :  of  Murray's  favor  with  Elizabeth. 

And  again,  on  the  22d,  and  again  on  the  26th,  and 
again  more  imploringly  on  the  oth  of  July,  and  to  all  these 
letters  her  answer  is  this.  She  is  forced  from  Carlisle  and 
carried  into  the  interior  of  England,  and  there  confined  io 
Bolton  Castle.    July  16. 

Then  follow  a  dozen  letters  to  Elizabeth  and  ti  Cecil, 
protesting  against  their  cruel  and  unjust  conduct,  as  well 

against  all  the  acts  performed  by  Murray  and  his  rebels. 
At  first  she  refusp°  to  submit  to  any  trial,  as  being  a  "  free 
•  BeQ, fl.  186b  t  Labanoff;tt  X)4.10T. 


802       Maby,  Queen  of  Soots 


qneen  "  and  no  criminal,  but  finally  she  is  teased,  frightened 
and  cajoled  into  consent,  and  against  the  advice  of  her  beat 
counsellors,  she  agrees  to  lay  her  case  before  Elizabeth's 
commissioners  and  thus  makes  that  sovereisfn  the  arbitresa 
of  her  fate.  For  some  relief  from  this  painful  subject,  1 
will  give  here  her  first  attempt  at  English  composition,  a 
letter  to  Sir  Francis  Knollys,  who  had  been  kind  to  her. 
Queer  work  she  makes  of  it,  poor  soul.    Sept.  1. 

"Mester  Knoleis,  y  heuue  har  sum  neus  from  Scotland: 
J  send  zou  the  double  oflf  them  y  vreit  to  the  Quin  ray  gud 
Bister,  and  pres  zou  to  du  the  lyk,  conforme  to  that  y  spai 
%esternicht  vnto  zou,  and  sut  hesti  ansur  y  refer  all  to  zour 
discretion,  and  wil  lipne  beter  in  zour  gud  delin  for  mi  nor 
y  kan  persuad  zou,  nemli  in  this  langasg  :  excus  my  iuel 
vreitin,  for  y  neuuer  vsed  it  afor  and  am  bested.  Ze 
Bchal  si  my  bel  vhiulk  is  opne,  it  is  sed  Seterday  my 
unfriends  wil  be  vth  zou,  y  sey  ne thing  bot  trest  weil,  an<? 
ze  send  oni  to  zour  wiflf  ze  mey  assur  her  sche  wald  a  bin 
weilcom  to  a  pur  strenger,  hua  nocht  bien  aquentet  vth  her 
wil  nocht  bi  ouuer  bald  to  vreit  bot  for  the  aquentans 
betuix  ous.  Y  wil  send  zou  letle  tekne  to  rember  zou  oflF 
the  gud  hop  y  heuu  in  zou,  guef  ze  fendt  a  mit  messager, 
V  wald  wysh  ze  bestouded  it  reder  apon  her  nor  oni  vder : 
thus  eflftir  my  commendations,  y  prey  God  heuu  zou  in  bit 
kipin. 

Zour  asured  gud  frind, 
•Excua  my  iuel  vreitin  thes  fursttym.'' 


From  Carlisle  to  Bolvon,  803 


TRANSLATION. 

"  Ml  Knollys,  I  have  heard  some  news  from  Scotland,  I 
send  you  the  double  (duplicate)  of  them.  I  write  to  the 
queen  my  good  sister  and  pray  you  to  do  the  like,  con- 
formably to  that  I  spake  yesternight  to  you  and  that  hasty 
answer.  I  refer  all  to  your  discretion  and  will  lippen 
(confide)  better  in  your  good  dealing  for  me  than  I  can 
persuade  you  namely  in  this  language :  excuse  my  evil 
writing  for  I  never  used  it  afore  and  am  hasted.  You  shall 
see  my  hel  (bill  or  letter*)  which  is  open.  It  is  said, 
Saturday  my  unfriends  will  be  with  you :  I  say  nothing  but 
trust  well.  If  you  send  any  (one)  to  your  wife,  you  may 
assure  her  she  would  have  been  welcome  to  a  poor  strangei, 
who  not  being  acquainted  with  her,  will  not  be  overbold  to 
write  but  for  the  acquaintance  betwixt  us.  I  will  send  you 
(a)  little  token  to  remind  you  of  the  good  hope  I  have  in 
you.  If  you  find  a  meet  messenger  I  would  wish  you 
bestowed  it  upon  her  rather  than  any  other.  Thus  after 
my  commendation,  I  pray  God  have  you  in  his  keeping. 
"  Your  assured  good  friend, 

"  Marie  R. 

"Excuse  my  evil  writing  this  first  time." 

*  TUs  Scottish  word  is  that  which  the  Latin  and  French  traiulatori  of  the 
mrer  QaslLet  Letters  mistook  for  "  Bible."— Vide  chap.  xix.  p.  209. 


\ 


chapter  III. 


Murray's  Conferences  and  his  End 

1568,  1570. 

Elizabeth  has  at  length  succeeded  in  getting  Mary  upon 
trial  before  her;  her  decision  is  to  give  back  to  that 
beautiful  but  detested  rival  her  crown  and  throne,  or  to  sen- 
/  tence  her  to  the  death  which  is  the  meet  award  of  the 

murderess. 

Ought  nOi.  the  power  to  do  either  of  these  two  things 
BEtisfy  the  terrible  Tudor?  It  will  not.  She  will  do 
neither  of  them  :  but  something  far  otherwise,  unreckoned 
upon  by  either  side. 

On  the  4th  day  of  October  1568,  the  conference  waa 
solemnly  opened.  The  judges  were  Thomas  Duke  of 
Norfolk,  earl-marshal  of  England ;  Thomas  Earl  of  Sussex, 
Viscount  Fitzwalter,  Lord  Egremont  and  Bornewell  and 
Sir  Ralph  Sadler. 

Queen  Mary's  commissioners  were  John  Lesly,  Bishop  of 
Boss,  William  Lord  Livingston,  Robert  Lord  Boyd,  John 


Last  Days  of  Murray. 


Lord  Hemes,  Gavin  Hamilton,  comraendatour  (lay  prio>^j 
of  Kilwinning,  Sir  John  Gordon  of  Lochinvar,  Sir  Jamei 
Cockburn  of  Stirling. 

The  rebel  commissioners  were  James  Earl  of  Murray 
James  Earl  of  Morton,  Adam  Bothwell  pseudo  Bishop  of 
Orkney,  Patrick  Lord  Lyndsay  of  the  Byres,  Pitcairn  lay 
prior  of  Dumferline.  These  were  assisted  by  William 
Maitland  of  Lethington,  George  Buchannan  and  the  lorda 
of  session  McGill  and  Balnaves. 

Murray  and  Morton  had  signed  the  bond  which  endorsed 
Both  well's  acquittal  and  had  urged  his  marriage  with  th€ 
queen.  Morton  had  issued  the  proclamation  which  accused 
Bothwell  of  carrying  Mary  oflf  by  force  and  compelling 
her  to  marry  him.  Maitland  with  Murray  and  Morton  had 
voted  for  the  act  of  parliament  which  declared  their  sove- 
reign an  innocent  victim  and  Bothwell  a  ruthless  ravisher. 
McGill  and  Balnaves  were  members  of  the  court  which 
unanimously  acquitted  the  earl  of  any  guilt  as  to  the  king's 
murder ;  and  now  Murray  and  Morton,  Maitland,  Balnaves 
and  McGill  come  before  Elizabeth  Tudor  to  accuse  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots  as  BothwelPs  accomplice  in  that  crime. 

To  prepare  the  way  for  the  opening  of  these  conferences 
Elizabeth  pledged  her  word  to  Mary  that  she  should  b€ 
restored  to  her  throne  ;*  and  to  Murray  she  promised  that 
his  royal  sister  should  never  be  permitted  to  return  to 
Bcotland.f    Mary  had  consented  to  these  conferences  only 

•  Utanofl;  iL  191.  Lingard,  vi  89.  t  Bell,  U.  142.   Lingard,  89L 


806 


Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 


on  Elizabeth's  express  promise  to  restore  her  to  her  realm. 
The  English  queen  herself  declared  that,  by  these  proceed- 
ings, "she  only  meant  to  have  such  as  the  Queen  of  Scoti 
iliould  please  to  call  into  England,  to  be  charged  with  such 
crimes  as  the  said  queen  should  please  to  object  against 
them ;  and  if  any  form  of  judgment  should  be  used,  it 
thould  be  against  themy*  We  shall  see  how  the  promise 
was  kept. 

Mary  credits  her  commissioners  publicly  in  the  name  o! 
"  God  everlasting."  She  instructs  them  as  plaintiffs  to 
accuse  Murray,  Morton  and  the  others  of  rebellion  and 
treason,  in  wasting  her  property,  stealing  and  selling  hei 
jewels,  destroying  the  houses,  wealth  and  lives  of  her  loyal 
subjects :  to  rehearse  and  give  thanks  for  Elizabeth's  pro- 
mise to  restore  her ;  which  promise  has  prevented  her  from 
suing  for  help  to  France  or  Spain  :  to  show  that  all  delay 
had  been  caused  by  Elizabeth's  urgent  request  for  time, 
that  she  might  persuade  the  rebels,  if  possible,  without  at 
once  proceeding  to  force. 

Then  they  are  to  say  that,  although  Mary  has  consente<l 
to  this  course,  yet  she  "does  not  recognize  herself  to  be 
subject  to  any  judge  on  earth,  but  is  a  free  princess  holding 
ber  crown  from  God  and  having  no  other  superior."  Then 
she  sets  forth  the  rebellion  of  Morton,  the  usurpation  of 
Murray  and  the  consequences  thereof;  repeating  thai 
although  willing  to  complain  to  and  ask  help  of  Elizabethi 


Last  Days  of  Murray. 


307 


yet  sLe  **  will  not  submit  her  estate,  crown,  autlionty  or 
titles  to  any  prince  or  judge  on  earth.* 

They  are  to  demand  that  any  answer  which  the  rebels 
may  make  shall  be  given  in  writing :  to  declare,  if  need  be, 
her  innocence  of  Darnley's  death  ;  that  her  marriage  with 
Both  well  was  wrought  purely  by  themselves ;  that  if  they 
say  they  have  writings  of  hers,  she  must  be  allowed  to  look 
at  the  originals ;  that  anything  so  produced  is  forged ;  that 
her  act  of  abdication  was  null  and  void  as  having  been 
obtained  by  force :  that  she  never  can  nor  will  recognize 
their  so-called  parliaments ;  that  if  restored,  the  new  reli- 
gion as  established  in  Scotland  shall  never  be  disturbed  by 
her;  that  relations  of  peace  and  amity  shall  be  strictl) 
maintained  in  Ensrland. 

All  this  is  fair  and  above  board.  How  do  Murray  and 
Co.  reply  to  it  ?  Let  it  be  remembered  that  one  only  of 
those  letters  produced  in  open  court  and  proved  to  be 
Mary's  writing,  would  have  condemned  her  instantly  and 
forever.  But  instead  of  this  they  are  privately  shown  to 
the  English  commissioners  not  as  testimony,  but  as  s(crei 
information  to  them  as  private  individuals,  while  no  answoi 
whatever  is  made  to  her  charges. 

On  the  10th  October,  the  conferences  are  suspended 
until  further  orders.  On  the  19th  Elizabeili  demands  two 
deputies  from  each  side  to  be  send  to  her  with  particular 
information  ;  for  which  pei'soiial  inquiry  Mary  earnestly 

*  See  whole  Instructione,  Labanoff,  I  196. 


308       Mary     Queen  of  Scots. 


thanks  her.  On  the  24th  Elizabeth  orders  the  conference? 
to  be  reopened  before  her  and  her  council  at  London 
Mary  again  sends  her  servitors,  but  with  a  more  determined 
assertion  that  she  does  not  recognize  Elizabeth  nor  her 
lords  judges ;  and  with  orders  to  break  up  the  con- 
ference if  they  attempt  to  proceed  on  any  such  basis. 

Meantime,  Elizabeth  receives  and  listens  to  Murray  while 
Mary  is  kept  close  prisoner.  This  coming  to  the  queen's 
ears,  she  indignantly  remonstrates  against  the  course  and 
demands  personal  access  to  her  sister  in  England ;  which 
demand  only  procures  the  reopening  of  the  conferences  on 
the  25th.  Thus  the  ball  is  kept  up.  Mary  constantly 
asks  admission  to  Elizabeth's  presence  and  is  as  constantly 
refused,  while  Murray  has  free  access  to  her.  Mary's  con- 
finement grows  daily  more  severe ;  the  opportunity  of 
exercising  her  religion  is  refused  her,  and  she  is  compelled 
to  hear  a  Protestant  chaplain.*  Protesting  against  her 
exclusion  from  the  presence  of  the  council,  Cecil  refuses  to 
•  receive  the  protest 

Dec.  8,  Murray  produces  the  letters  officially.  Mary 
demands  to  see  them  and  is  refused.  Dec.  24th,  her  com. 
missioners  solemnly  accuse  Murray  and  Morton  of  participa* 
tion  in  the  murder  of  Darnley.  Jan.  8,  1569,  Cecil  pro- 
poses an  accommodation  between  the  queen  and  Murray, 
based  on  the  abdication  of  the  former.  Of  couise  this  is 
refused  ;  and  so  at  length  the  whole  shameful  and  cruel 

•  Labanoff,  il  240. 


Last  Days  of  Murray. 


309 


farce  ends.  The  rebels  had  been  guaranteed  against  anj 
punishment ;  Murray  had  openly  neglected  to  reply  to  her 
accusations;  had  been  permitted  to  charge  her  and  to 
bring  evidence  against  her  which  neither  she  nor  her  com* 
missioners  were  permitted  to  see.  Fenelon,  French  airSas- 
sador,  writes,  "that  her  reputation,  her  crown  and  iife 
were  at  the  mercy  of  her  enemies."*  The  Duke  of 
Norfolk  and  Earl  Arundel  told  Elizabeth  that  "in  thus 
permitting  Mary  to  be  oppressed  hy  her  subjects,  she  was 
setting  a  bad  example  to  her  own."f  The  Spanish  ambas- 
sador writes,  "  that  Cecil  was  trying  to  destroy  the  Queen 
of  Scotland  with  terrible  fury,  con  furia  terribley\  But 
from  the  moment  the  conspirators  were  frankly  accused  by 
Mary,  they  became  anxious  for  permission  to  return  to 
Scotland;  and  on  the  12th  "The  Erie  of  Murray  and  all 
his  adherentis  came  to  the  presence  of  the  Queen's  Majestie 
of  Ingland  and  gat  licence  to  depart  into  Scotland."§ 

Every  prayer  for  the  commonest  justice  had  been  refused 
to  Mary  Stuart,  and  now  when  Elizabeth  had  decided  that 
nothing  hath  been  shown  to  cause  "  even  an  ill  opinion  " 
of  her  royal  cousin ;  and  when  the  Scottish  commissioners 
demanded  her  liberty,  even  as  Murray  had  received  his 
they  were  informed  by  Cecil  "  that  the  Queue  of  Scotland 
their  misstress  could  not  he  suffered  to  depart  for  divers 
respects."! 

•  lingard  vl  98.        t  mdu        %  Ibid.  IL  94.        §  Tytler,  L  165, 
I  TyU(»,  1 169.   For  other  iniquities  In  the  manner  of  this  trial  please  oooraM 
ihfip.  zriiL 


810       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

No,  never  again  was  this  poor  princess  to  breathe  the  aif 
of  freedom.  Kings  should  demand  it  liter  in  her  his- 
tory, and  be  answered  with  a  copy  of  George  Buchannan'g 
Detection  ;  and  at  the  proper  time  the  charge  of  high 
tieason  should  appear  and  so  the  end  be  reached. 

For  the  present  Mary  Stuart  must  content  herself  with 
captivity  at  Carlisle,  and  then  in  Tutbury  Castle,  Feb.  3d, 
and  then  in  Wingfield,  April ;  then  back  to  Tutbury,  July, 
1569.  Just  now  the  episode  of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk 
claims  our  attention. 

This  gentleman  was  not  only  the  first  subject  but  the 
most  popular  man  in  England.  He  was  at  the  head  of 
Elizabeth's  commissioners  to  try  the  case  of  the  Queen  of 
Scots,  and,  having  royal  blood  in  his  veins,  he  conceived 
the  idea  of  a  marriage  with  her,  that  so  he  might  obtain 
the  throne  of  Scotland  and  ultimately,  bv  her  rio^ht,  that 
of  England.  He  accordingly  did  everything  in  his  prwer 
to  induce  the  usurper  Murray  to  cease  his  persecutioii  of 
his  sister.  His  first  confidant  was  frank,  open-he?  rted 
Maitland  of  Lethington,  who  gave  him  every  posr.ible 
encouragement  and  induced  him  to  communicate  his 
desiofus  to  the  Earl  of  Murray. 

That  godly  man  assured  the  duke  that  his  position  "  was 
DO  less  acceptable  to  him  than  beneficial  to  both  king- 
doms, and  that  he  would  concur  with  the  utmost  ardor  iu 
promoting  so  desirable  an  event."*    Thoro'.ghly  confidinq 


Last  Days  of  Murray.  -311 


in  honest  Murra\  's  word,  the  unfortunate  nobleman  wrote 
to  the  Earls  of  Northumberland  and  Westmorland,  and,  1 
•ra  sorry  to  record,  dissuaded  them  from  putting  into  exe- 
<jation  their  most  laudable  intention  to  waylay  the  Regent 
on  his  road  home  and  to  cut  his  throat. 

Mary,  by  advice  of  her  loyal  servant  and  faithful  coun- 
sellor, Lesly,  Bishop  of  Ross,  gave  in  seemingly  to  Nor- 
folk's project  as  a  means  of  escape,  from  what  she  now 
recognized  as  the  poisonous  talons  of  Elizabeth.  Letters 
and  tokens  were  exchanged,  and  Norfolk,  encouraged  by  his 
friend  Murray,  went  blindly  forward. 

Percy  Earl  of  Northumberland  and  Neville  Earl  of 
Westmorland,  representatives  of  the  most  heroic  names  of 
England,  and  staunch  Catholics,  had  espoused  the  cause 
of  the  Scottish  Queen  from  the  beginning ;  and  they  now 
leagued  with  Norfolk  to  effect  her  delivery,  together  with 
>ther  objects  desirable,  as  they  supposed,  for  England, 
nanaely  the  restoration  of  the  old  religion  and  the  definite 
regulation  of  the  succession. 

This  was  farther  than  the  other  peers  would  go,  although 
nearly  all  were  strongly  in  favor  of  the  marriage.  Arun- 
del, Pembroke,  Leicester,  Lumley  all  signed  a  letter 
pressing  Queen  Mary  to  accede  to  the  match,  but  requir- 
ing her  to  respect  the  Protestant  religion  as  now  estal>- 
lished,  to  do  nothing  against  Elizabeth's  possession  of  the 
throne,  to  pardon  her  rebels  and  to  form  a  league  iter- 
petual  between  the  two  kingdoms. 


312       Maky,  Queen  of  Scots. 


1 


By-and-by  Northumberland  and  Westmoreland  were 
discovered  by  Elizabeth  and  on  being  summoned  to 
court,  broke  out  into  open  rebellion.  First  of  all  Mary 
8tuart  was  sent  to  a  fortress  in  Coventry  and  then  troops 
were  marched  against  the  insurgent  lords  and  they  were 
driven  over  the  borders  inio  Scotland. 

And  then  James  Stuart  Earl  of  Murray  basely  betrayed 
Norfolk  to  Queen  Elizabeth.  His  letter  will  be  found  in 
Dr.  Robertson's  appendix  No.  xxxiii.  The  duke  was 
accused  by  his  sovereign  and  not  only  denied  that  he  had 
formed  any  such  project  but  stooped  to  the  meanness  of 
maligning  Mary  to  prove  his  own  innocence.  He  called 
her  both  an  adulteress  and  a  murderess,  and  asked  how  he 
or  any  other  man  could  desire  to  marry  such  a  one.  This 
baseness  destroys  all  sentiments  of  pity  for  this  nobleman, 
who  although  he  gratified  the  malignity  of  Elizabeth  by 
Buch  language,  yet  did  himself  no  good.  She  recom- 
mended him  to  "  beware  on  what  pillow  he  rested  his 
head,"  an  exceedingly  unpleasant  remark  from  the  lips 
of  a  Tudor.  Accordingly  on  the  9th  of  October  he  was 
committed  to  the  tower. 

Then  he  made  humble  submission  to  the  queen  and 
bcund  himself  to  renounce  any  marriage  project  with  the 
Scottish  sovereign.  He  was  set  at  liberty  and  instantly 
renewed  negotiations  with  Bishop  Lesly  and  with  the 
French  and  Spanish  emissaries  engaged  in  the  scheme. 
He  was,  two  years  afterwards,  again  imprisoned,  tried  and 


Last  Days  of  Murray. 


313 


found  guilty  of  high  treason.  The  trial  was  conducted 
with  the  extreme  unfairness  frequent  at  that  court*  and 
resulted  of  course  in  the  gratification  of  the  anciftut 
Bpin^te^'s  lust  of  blood.  On  the  2d  of  June,  1572,  he  knelt 
beside  the  same  block  at  which  his  father  had  suffered  a 
quarter  of  a  century  before  and  his  head  was  struck  from 
his  shoulders. 

Our  old  friend  Sir  Nicholas  Throckmorton  was  tried  for 
pa^rtici patio II  in  the  same  plot,  and  although  he  was  acquit- 
ted, yet  he  lost  forever  the  confidence  of  the  queen  whom 
he  had  served  so  long  and  so  unscrupulously.  He  died  at 
the  Earl  of  Leicester's,  "  being  there  taken  suddenly  in 
great  extremity  the  Tuesday  befoi-e ;  his  lungs  were 
perished,  but  a  sudden  cold  he  had  taken  was  the  cause 
of  his  speedy  death.  God  hath  his  soul,  and  we,  his 
friends,  great  loss  of  his  body."f 

William  Maitland  laird  of  Lethington  was  also  an  active 
participant  in  the  scheme,  and  strangely  enough  he  now 
forsook  Murray  ;  he  had  wriggled  and  aquirmed,  plotted 
and  planned  until  both  the  fox  and  serpent  qualities  of  hia 
nature  were  worn  out  and  exhausted.  Then  he  grew  des- 
•  pel  ate  and  turned  honest.  What  he  gained  by  te.at 
manoeuvre  we  are  now  about  to  see. 

The  chief  of  the  Reformers,  after  Murray,  James  Earl  of 

•  See  Report  of  Trial,  library  of  Entertaining  Knowledge,  vol  Xfi.  part  1, 
wad  Robertson's  Hist.  Scotland,  p.  190-215. 
t  Orimiiua  Trials.  lib.  Ent.  Eooirlege,  zri  ML 

u 


S14       Mart,  Qdken  of  Scots. 

Morton,  had  seduced  the  sister-in-law  of  Kirkaldy  of  Grange, 
the  soldier  who  had  won  for  Murray  the  field  of  Langside 
and  had  set  him  upon  the  regental  throne  of  Scotland.  The 
dishonored  gentleman,  Sir  James  Kirkaldy,  slew  his  falso 
mate  in  her  polluted  bed,  but  Morton  was  too  high  for  him 
U}  reach.  But  he  joined  Maitland,  and  when  Murray 
attacked  that  statesman,  protected  him.  Maitland  waa 
arrested  on  a  charge  of  complicity  in  the  murder  of  Darn- 
ley  ;  not  by  the  "  godly  regent,"  of  course.  Oh,  no,  that 
good  man  always  declared  that  it  filled  his  pitiful  soul  with 
pain  to  see  his  dear  friend  thus  maltreated.  Be  that  as  it 
may  have  been,  Maitland  was  arrested  and  sent  to  Edib- 
burg  Castle.  Sir  William  Kirkaldy  was  then  captain  of  that 
fortress,  and  he  received  Maitland  as  a  friend,  and  defied 
the  strength  of  Murray  and  afterwards  of  Lenox,  Mar  and 
Morton.  From  that  time  Kirkaldy  raised  the  standard  of 
his  rightful  queen,  fought  well  and  bravely,  though  in  vain, 
for  her,  and  Maitland  the  wily  helped  him  with  his  coun- 
cils. But  he  had  destroyed  that  poor  lady  and  the 
"  strong  right  hand  of  the  eternal  God  ^  was  on  him.  He 
could  not  repair  his  wrongs  to  her ;  his  power  and  iia 
wiles  were  alike  unsuccessful  to  get  her  from  between  the  ' 
well  clenched  fangs  of  the  abominable  she-wolf  of  England. 
He  was  persecuted  by  Morton,  when  that  earl  became 
Regent,  and  he  died  of  poison  in  a  dungeon.  His  body 
lay  above-ground  festering,  uncoffined,  in  the  air,  until 
its  merited  rottenness  procured  for  it  from  fear  what 


Last  Days  of  Murray.  315 


human  love  nor  human  pity  would  bestow,  an  unattended 
burial. 

This  was  the  end  of  Maitland  of  Lethington. 

Let  us  pass  from  the  servant  to  the  master,  "Godly*' 
James  Stuart,  by  the  love  of  his  abused  sister  Earl  of 
Murray,  by  the  grace  of  the  Congregation  Regent  of 
Scotland.  When  his  conferences  were  ended,  and,  with 
his  Casket  of  Letters  under  his  arm,  he  was  ready  to  go 
"  back  again,"  the  woman  to  whom  he  sold  the  independ- 
ence of  his  country,  to  whose  jealous  hate  he  betrayed  his 
friendless  queen  and  sister,  as  well  as  the  Duke  of  Norfolk, 
paid  him  for  his  last  job  five  thousand  pounds  sterling  in 
cash.* 

So,  comfortably,  he  went  back  to  Scotland,  from  which 
country  he  wrote,  Feb.  2,  1569,  to  Secretary  Cecil,  that 
there  never  was  greater  occasion  to  be  careful  of  Mary's 
security.  And  if  the  Lords  Boyd  and  Herries  and  the 
Bishop  of  Ross  could  he  stayed  for  a  season,  it  would  do 
a  great  ^oofl?."f  On  his  arrival  in  Scotland,  he  found  the 
people  distrustful  of  him.  They  suspected  that  he  had 
sold  his  country ;  and  they  manifested  some  disposition  to 
obey  Hamilton  Duke  of  Chatelherault,  who  had  published 
his  commission  from  the  queen  as  Li euten ant-General. 
This  was  the  hardest  card  to  beat  for  the  moment;  but 
Murray  knew  the  tricks  of  the  game. 

He  invited  the  lords  of  both  paities  to  assemble  and  to 
•  Obaliiien,U.289.  fXbld.S9L! 


816       Mart,  Queen  of  Soots 


iee  whether  a  harmonious  arrangement  might  not  be 
arrived  at.  They,  loyal  gentlemen,  came  to  the  rendez- 
T0U8,  were  set  on  by  Murray's  men  and  the  Duke,  Lord 
Herries  and  others,  were  imprisoned.* 

His  giace  tb^  E^grfit  now  found  leisure  to  amuse  him- 
self a  little.  In  May  he  pilloried  some  priests  for  saying 
mass;  he  burnt  a  witch,  one  Mother  Nicneven,  of  whom 
Sir  Walter  has  made  a  character  in  the  Abbot ;  he  hanged 
Sir  William  Stuart,  lord  lion  king-at-arms,  for  sorcery.  Poor 
gentleman !  he  was  not  only  a  sorcerer  but  he  had  said  he 
could  prove  that  Murray  was  a  murderer  of  Darnley.f  He 
then  attended  to  Maitland's  case  as  we  have  seen.  Then 
he  performed  his  last  good  deed,  and  was  instantly  pre- 
sented with  the  proper  reward. 

Among  the  loyal  gentlemen  in  arms  for  their  queen  was 
Janies  Hamilton  of  Bothwellhaugh.  Upon  his  estates 
Mvrray  seized,  confiscating  them  on  a  charge  of  treason, 
Hwnilton's  wife  was  the  heiress  of  Woodhouslee,  and 
being  of  course  without  power  to  resist,  she  instantly 
yielded  her  husband's  estates  and  retired  to  the  propeity 
left  her  by  her  father.  Thither  the  Regent  sent  a  party  of 
soldiery,  who  coming  there  at  midnight,  thrust  the  iinfor 
tunate  lady,  in  her  night  dress,  out  into  the  Scottish 
January  midnight.  She  wandered  about  for  hours,  until 
reason  forsook  her  and  she  died  raving  miserably  in  thi 
drifting  snows, 

•  Ch&lmen,  U.  198.  t  Ibid,  m 


Lasi   Days  of  Murray.  317 

Tlien  James  Hamilton  took  his  harquebus,  went  down  to 
Linlithgow,  and  when  the  "godly  Regent''  swept  past  at  the 
head  of  his  troops,  shot  him  down  in  the  streets  like  a 
dog 

And  thus,  laden  with  an  incalculable  weight  of  evil; 
with  the  dethronement  and  broken  heart  of  his  sister ;  with 
the  murder  of  Huntley  and  Darnley  and  Lady  Hamilton 
and  Norfolk;  with  the  betrayal  of  hia  country  and  the 
ruin  of  his  race,  the  soul  of  that  dark  hypocrite  passed 
down  to  its  account.    Jan.  23,  1570. 

There  are  two  Scottish  poetical  contributions  to  Murray's 
fame,  by  the  citation  of  which  I  will  end  this  chapter.  The 
first  is  from  a  poem  of  the  day,  author  unknown : 

•*  He  trained  up  was  in  the  school  of  Satan's  lying  grace, 
Where  he  hath  learned  a  finer  feat  that  Richard  erst  did  see 
To  do  the  deed  and  lay  the  blame  on  thein  that  harmless  he. 
For  he  and  his  companions  eke  agreeing  all  in  one, 
Did  kill  the  king  and  lay  the  blame  the  sacklcss  queen  upon.^* 

The  second  quotation  is  from  Aytoun's  nob'e  poem  of 
Roth  well: 

Get  thee,**  (says  Both  well  to  the  devil)    across  the 

howling  seas, 
And  bend  o'er  Murray  s  bed. 
For  there  the  falsest  villain  lies 
That  ever  Scotland  bred. 


•  8ee  tb9  whole  poem  lo  Chalmen,  U.  843k 


Mart,  Queen  of  Soots. 

False  to  his  faith,  a  weddea  pneat , 

Still  falsei  to  the  crown ; 
False  to  the  blood  that  in  his  Toint 

Made  bastardy  renown ; 
False  to  his  sister  whom  he  swoie 

To  guar*i       shield  fi-on.  harm ; 
The  head  o  /  mat  y  a  felon  plot, 

But  never  once  the  arm. 
What  tie  so  holy  that  his  hand 

Hath  snapped  it  not  in  twain  f 
What  oath  so  sacred  but  he  broke 

For  selfish  end  or  gain  ? 
A  verier  knave  ne^er  stepped  the  eatlk 

Since  this  wide  world  began ; 
4liI  yet — he  bandies  texts  with  Knox 

A  id  walks  a  pious  man  I" 


Chapter  IV 


Eigh  reen  Years  in  Scotland 
1569-1587, 

This  insurrection  showed  to  Elizabeth  how  delicate  waa 
the  position  she  occupied  towards  Mary  Stuart.  It  was 
certain  that  foreign  Catholic  monarchs  would  demand  her 
freedom  and  that  they  must  be  cajoled  or  persuaded  by 
ftorae  means.  It  was  certain  that  very  many  powerful  English 
subjects  not  only  greatly  commiserated  the  captive  lady, 
but  hated  the  cruel  Tudor  who  held  her  imprisoned.  As 
long  as  she  remained  immured,  so  long  would  her  name  be 
used,  with  or  without  her  consent,  by  any  faction  that 
might  arise  in  England.  What  then  to  do  with  her  ?  To 
ftet  her  free  was  impossible,  half  of  Scotland  was  still  loyal ; 
the  great  Catholic  nobles  of  England  would  have  joined 
them  France,  Spain,  Germany  were  ready  to  give  their 
aid.  The  Archduke  of  Austria  and  the  Prince  Philip  of 
Spain  were  negotiating  for  her  hand.  Pope  Pius  V.  had 
exaommiiiueated  Queen  Elizabeth  and  Felton  had  nailed 


820       Mary,  Queen  of  Soots. 

the  bull  on  the  palace  gates  of  the  Bishop  of  London 
getting  immediately  hanged  for  his  trouble  in  so  doing. 

What  was  to  be  done  with  the  royal  prisoner  ? 

Diabolical  Cecil  suggests  at  once  the  simplest  plan 
quietly  to  murder  her  in  prison.*  Nov.  14,  1569.  From 
the  odium  of  this  however  Elizabeth  still  shrunk,  although 
neither  its  cruelty  alarmed  nor  did  its  baseness  revolt  her, 
for  she  proposed  to  deliver  up  her  trusting  kinswoman  to 
the  tender  mercies  of  Murray. 

And  again  she  sent  Killegrew,  during  the  regency  of 
Mar,  oflfering  to  hand  over  Mary  Stuart  to  him  and  brutal 
Morton,  on  the  express  condition  that  "  she  should  be 
tried  and  executed  within  six  hours  after  her  arrival  in 
Scotland."! 

The  natural  result  of  such  a  proposition  we  will  see  verv 
shortly. 


The  Earl  of  Murray  was  succeeded  in  the  Regency  by 
Lennox,  who  was  chosen  at  the  bidding  of  Elizabeth.  This 
nobleman  signalized  himself  by  the  capture  of  several 
castles  in  the  hands  of  the  Queensmen,  and  by  the  murder 
of  a  venerable  prelate.  He  succeeded  in  taking  the  strong 
fortress  of  Dumbarton  in  which  he  found  Hamilton,  Arch- 
bishop of  St.  Andrew's,  and  this  clergyman  and  most  loyal 


•Labanofl; iL  39%. 


t  Strickland,  v.  194 ;  Robertaon,  SlflL 


Eighteen  Tears  in  Scotland.    32 J 


servant  of  Mary  he  caused  to  be  hanged  in  the  courtyard 
The  loyalists  instantly  adopted  for  their  war  cry  "  Remem 
ber  the  Archbishop  of  St.  Andrew's and  when  Lennoi 
was  taken  with  the  town  of  Stirling,  he  met  as  sudden  a  fate 
as  the  unfortunate  prelate  bad  suffered  at  his  hands.  He 
was  shot  bf  command  of  Lord  Claude  Hamilton,  brother 
of  the  murdered  man,  Sept.  3d,  1571. 

Morton  seized  upon  the  revenues  of  the  see,  and  Mar 
was  elected  regent ;  to  enjoy  that  position  however  only 
for  a  short  time,  and  then  to  become  melancholy  mad  and 
die  miserably,  October  28,  1572.  This  nobleman  has 
been  a  good  deal  praised  by  Robertson  and  even  by  Bell 
for  gentleness  and  desire  for  the  pacification  of  the  king- 
dom. But  stubborn  state-paper  facts  prove  that  he  was 
quite  willing  to  put  to  death  his  suffering  and  innocent 
sovereign  in  order  to  gratify  the  malignity  of  Eliza- 
beth, 

For  on  the  9th  October,  Killegrew  informs  Leicester 
and  Cecil  that  the  regent  is  ready  with  his  terms,  and  on 
the  26th  they  were  sent  to  the  English  ambassador.  They 
were  as  follows  :  1.  The  queen  of  England  shall  take  the 
young  king  of  Scotland  under  her  especial  protection. 
2.  The  English  Parliament  shall  declare  that  no  sentence 
pronounced  against  Mary  Stuart  shall  prejudice  the  rights 
of  her  son.  3.  A  league,  offensive  and  defensive,  shall  be 
formed  between  the  two  kingdoms.  4.  The  Earl  of  Hunt- 
bgton,  Bedford  or  Essex,  shall  lead  three  thousand  troops 

14» 


822       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

into  Scotland  to  assist  at  the  execution  of  Mary  Stuart 
6.  That  those  troops  shall  then  aid  those  of  the  regent  in 
the  reduction  of  the  castle  of  Edinburg  and  shall  give  it 
up  to  him.  6.  That  Elizabeth  shall  pay  all  the  arrearages 
due  to  the  Scottish  soldiers."* 

Two  days  after  signing  these  articles,  the  Earl  of  Mar 
very  properly  died. 

The  field  was  now  clear  for  Morton.  This  quadrupled 
rebel  and  traitor,  this  assassin  of  Riccio,  this  murderer  of 
Darnley,  this  destroyer  and  detractor  of  his  innocent 
queen,  this  man,  who  had  been  protected  by  Percy  Earl 
of  Northumberland  on  his  flight  into  England  after 
Riccio's  death,  who,  when  Percy  in  turn  became  a  fugitive 
and  asked  for  refuge  from  him,  sold  him  for  money  to 
Elizabeth  by  whom  his  head  was  struck  off,  this  man  was 
now  Regent  of  Scotland.  A  short  sketch  of  the  penod 
of  his  power  will  be  all  that  is  necessary  here. 

He  had  always  been  an  eminent  leader  of  the  Congrega- 
tion, but  it  was  simply  from  hypocrisy  and  avarice.  He 
not  only  seized  upon  the  revenues  of  St.  Andrew's,  but  of 
twenty  other  benefices,  appointing  a  single  minister  to 
serve  three  or  four  cures ;  fomenting  their  disputes  and 
using  religion  only  as  a  cloak  for  unscrupulous  wickedness 
and  insatiable  covetousness.  "Spies  and  informers  were 
everywhere  employed ;  the  remembrance  of  old  offences 
irae  revived ;  imaginary  crimes  were  invented ;  petty  ires- 


KiOHTEEN  Years  in  Scotland.  323 


passes  were  aggravarted  and  delinquents  were  compelled  to 
compound  ^or  their  lives  by  the  payment  of  exorbitant 
fines/'* 

He  seduced,  as  we  have  seen,  the  lady  of  Sir  James 
Kirkaldy,  and  w^hen,  with  Queen  Elizabeth's  help,  he  had 
reduced  Edinburg  Castle,  hanged  both  the  brothers  of  that 
name.  He  persecuted  Maitland  to  the  death  of  a  poisoned 
rat  in  a  cellar.  He  probably  poisoned  Athol  at  his  own 
dinner-table,  to  which  he  had  invited  that  nobleman  ;f  the 
king's  life  was  considered  unsafe  in  his  hands,  and  thus, 
Although  constantly  fostered  and  protected  by  Elizabeth,J 
te  also  came  to  his  end. 

On  the  1st  of  June,  1581,  he  was  accused  of  the  murdei 
of  Darnley.  Balfour  and  others  of  his  accomplices  testified 
against  him  :  he  was  found  guilty,  and  although  confessing 
his  giilt,  died  hypocrite  as  he  had  lived.  His  head  was 
stuck  over  the  gateway  of  Edinburg  jail,  "  and  his  body, 
after  lying  until  sunset  upon  the  scafibld,  covered  with  a 
beggarly  cloak,  was  carried  by  common  porters  to  the 
usual  burial  place  for  criminals  "! 

They  are  all  gone  now,  that  terrible  band  who  desolated 
the  young  life  and  broke  the  heart  of  Mary  Queen  of 
S^.ots.  She  came  to  them  a  sorrowful  widow  of  nineteen ; 
she  was  driven  out  by  them  a  crushed  and  friendless 
widow  of  twenty-five  to  pass  eighteen  years  of  cruel 
imprisonment,  and  to  die  upon  the  scaffold.    But  they  are 

•  Roberteoc,  226.        t  Ibid,  281.        |  Ibid.  280, 284        %  lUd.  fi3». 


324       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

ail  gone.  Some  sent  to  their  account  without  a  moment^* 
warning;  some  perished  alone  in  foul  and  griniy  dungeon*; 
Bome  dying  impenitent  upon  the  scaffold.  But  now  they 
pass  away  all  from  these  pages.  Knox  and  Ruthven  and 
Lyndsay,  Murray  and  Bothwell,  Morton  and  Maitland. 

Prince  James  is  now  called  King  of  Scotland.  His  mothei 
)i  in  the  prisons  of  Elizabeth  Tudor. 


Chapter  V 


Mary  the  Captive. 

Why  is  this  royal  lady  kept  in  prison  ?    The  vile  charger 
of  her  rebellious  subjects,  and  the  forced  proofs  with  whicb 
they  were  supported,  have  been  treated  by  Elizabeth  witl 
the  contempt  they  deserved.    "  We  find  no  cause  of  evi 
opinion  against  our  good  sister."    What,  though  the  abo 
minable  Tudor  accept  the  dedication  of  George  Buchannan'5 
libel  ?    What,  though  she  orders  its  circulation  about  the 
European  continent?    She  gives  the  reason  in  her  orders. 
There  is  no  suspicion  of  guilt  in  Mary,  but  these  books 
must  be  disseminated  because  "  they  will  serve  to  good 
effect  to  disgrace  her,  which  must  he  done  before  other  pur- 
poses can  he  ohtainedP^    What  other  purposes  in  heaven's 
name  ?    Murder  I  most  foul,  unnatural,  pitiless,  ruthless 
murder ! 

What  faults  has  Mary  Stuart!  Two  kinds:  political 
•nd  religious.    She  is  next  heir  to  the  throne  of  England 

•BeD,iLt7L 


826 


Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 


§he  is  aa  uncompromising  Catholic.  Elizabeth  dare  not  of 
will  not  marry  ;  power  is  too  sweet.  If  she  have  children 
she  dare  not  acknowledo^e  them.  But  Leicester  and  Blount 
and  Ilatton  and  Raleigh  and  Oxford  and  Anjou  and 
Simier  ought  to  know.*  And  this  detested  next  heir  is 
young  and  beautiful  and  a  mother.  This  detested  next 
heir  will  neither  be  frightened  nor  cajoled  into  any  act  of 
abdication.  "  Never  will  I  yield  my  crown,"  she  writes 
from  her  prison  at  Bolton,  Jan.  9,  1569,  "  for  I  am  delibe- 
rately resolved  rather  to  die  than  do  so,  and  the  last  words 
I  shall  utter  in  my  life  shall  be  those  of  a  Queen  of  Scot- 
land."! 

In  vain  do  they  coax  or  threaten  her  about  her  religion  ; 
in  vain  oflfor  her  every  possible  advantage  if  she  will 
change  it :  in  vain  they  take  away  her  chaplain  and  com- 
pel her  to  attend  the  services  of  a  Protestant  minister :  in 
vain  refuse  her  every  prayer  for  spiritual  consolation  and 
threaten  her  with  more  rigorous  imprisonment  and  loss  of 
credit  if  she  ask  for  it  again  ;J  her  reply  is  the  same  for- 
ever, "  As  I  have  lived  so  I  will  die  in  my  religion,  or,  if 
need  be,  for  it !" 

There  is  another  cause  why  the  she  Pharaoh  will  not  let 
Mary  go.  Every  day  come  to  her  ears  reports  from  the 
very  gaolers  themselves,  of  that  lady's  beauty,  gentleness^ 
and  wisdom,  of  her  forgiveness  of  injuries  and  patience,  of 

•  lingard,  y}.  822, 868.  t  Labaooff,  tt.  ST4. 

%  Ibid.  iL  185,  W.  8.  Iv.  276, 818L 


Maby  the  Captive. 


327 


aer  exquisite  urbanity  and  courtesy,  of  her  enduring  sweet* 
Hess,  although  impr  soned,  robbed  of  power,  of  service,  of 
consolation,  and  half  the  time  of  hope,  while  she  the  Tudor 
knows  well,  however  flatterers  may  speak,  that  no  such 
tribute  comes  from  any  heart  to  her.  For  she  is  shedding 
the  blood  of  her  subjects  by  hundreds  for  high  treason  ;  she 
is  saying  of  the  austere  Protestant  Bishop  of  London's  ser- 
mon on  finery  as  unbecoming  her  years,  and  on  the  necessity 
of  turning  her  thoughts  to  heaven,  "  that  if  he  touch  on 
that  subject  again  she  will  fit  him  for  heaven !  That  he 
shall  walk  there  without  a  staff  and  leave  his  mantle 
behind  him  she  is  collaring  Sir  Christopher  Hatton,  cufT- 
ing  the  ears  of  her  earl-marshal ;  spitting  on  Lord  Arun- 
del's dress ;  getting  her  nose  painted  red  by  disrespectful 
waiting  maids,  and  cursing  and  swearing  about  her  court 
with  the  ready  blasphemy  of  a  drunken  dragoon.* 

All  these  are  good  causes  for  Mary's  captivity,  and  she 
shall  rest  therein,  suffering,  until  God  set  her  free. 

From  the  first  days  of  her  vain  search  for  refuge  in  Eng- 
land, was  the  iniquitous  scheme  conceived.  "  To  detain  her 
in  captivity  for  life,"  was  declared  to  be  "the  most  con- 
lUicive  to  the  security  of  their  sovereign  and  the  intereits  of 
their  religio7iy\  There  they  state  their  own  motives,  poli- 
tical and  religious ;  and  on  those  motives  only  will  they  act 
until  the  melancholy  end. 

*  Ungtf   tL  821,  822.  Ben.  Jooson's  leHen  of  the  time,  etc,  Labaooff  tL  (XKM 

t  Lhtgard,  tL  8X. 


S28 


Mary,  Queen  of  Scots 


Let  us  sketch  the  course  of  action  based  upon  thesn 
motives : 

From  May  19th,  1568,  to  February  18,  1587,  eighteen 
years  and  nine  months,  Mary  Stuart,  Queen  of  Scotland, 
.anguished  in  English  prisons.  She  entered  them  a  beauti- 
ful woman  of  twenty-five,  she  left  them  broken  and  faded, 
and  her  still  abundant  hair  white  with  the  chill  mould  of 
captivity. 

These  were  her  prisons  : 


Carslisle,  from 

May  19,  1568. 

two  months. 

Bolton, 

(t 

July  16,  " 

six  «• 

Tutbury, 

it 

Feb.  9,  1569, 

two  ** 

Wingfield, 

it 

April  7,  " 

seven  *' 

Coventry, 

t( 

Nov.  14,  " 

one  " 

Tutbury, 

it 

Jan.  2,  1570, 

four  " 

Cbatsworth, 

it 

May  17,  " 

five  ** 

Sheffield 

it 

Nov.  28,   •*  tbirtcen  y'rs  and  nini 

Buxton  Baths 

a  visit  for  health. 

Wingfield, 

it 

Sept.  3,  1684, 

three  months. 

Tutbury, 

it 

Jan.  13,  1585, 

eleven  •* 

Chartley, 

tt 

Dec.  24,  " 

one  *• 

Fotheringay, 

tt 

Sept.  25,  1586, 

nine  ** 

Tbe  Grave, 

it 

Feb.  18,  1587. 

From  one  place  to  another  this  mournful  victim  was  car- 
ried as  state  policy,  fear  or  caprice  might  dictate.  Two  or 
three  months  out  of  all  this  terrible  time  she  was  permitted 
to  go  to  Buxton  Baths  to  restore  impaired  and  near!; 


Mart  the  Captive. 


329 


ruined  health,  but  this  was  her  only  relaxation  aftei  sixteen 
years  of  imprisonment. 

At  first  she  was  treated  with  some  of  the  courtesy  due  to 
her  exalted  rank,  to  the  aid  that  she  had  requested  and  to 
her  personal  dignity,  only  that  she  was  closely  watch ed. 
But  this  course  soon  became  changed,  for  mere  prison-life, 
and  as  we  shall  see,  deprivations  of  the  very  necessaries  of 
life. 

All  Protestants  were  properly  indignant  at  the  out- 
rageous, indefensible  and  horrible  massacre  of  St.  Bartho- 
lomew. Elizabeth  was  not  personally  pleased  at  her  own 
excommunication ;  and  she  vented  her  spite  as  much  as 
possible  upon  her  Catholic  prisoner.  The  various  rebel- 
lions gotten  up  in  England,  wherein  frequently  the  name 
of  Mary  was  made  use  of,  although  constantly  denied  by  that 
princess,  but  made  Elizabeth's  hand  fall  heavier  upon  her, 
although  proof  she  could  get  none  of  Mary^s  complicity. 
As  to  the  attempts  made  purely  and  simply  to  set  the 
Queen  of  Scots  free,  she  always  said  openly  that  she  would 
do  all  in  her  power  to  promote  them,  and  would  of  course 
fficape  if  ever  an  opportunity  offered. 

In  the  five  hundred  and  twelve  letters  that  lie  before  me 
now,  the  poor  soul  pleads  by  all  that  is  holy  and  just  and 
tender  and  womanly  and  merciful  to  be  set  at  liberty 
Send  her  anywhere  she  says,  to  France,  to  Spain,  to  Scot- 
land, only  out  of  the  humid  walls,  out  into  God's  free 
oatare  and  the  air  of  heaven.    She  pleads  by  her  love  foi 


830       Mary,   Queen  of  Soots. 

her  child,  by  her  harmlessness,  by  the  ties  of  kinship ;  by 
her  neuralgic  agonies  contracted  in  the  damps  of  her  pri- 
sons ;  by  everything  that  could  not  fail  to  move  a  human 
heart,  but,  alas,  she  addressed  herself  to  Elizabeth's. 

Mary  was  a  dangerous  person.  Says  one  of  Cecil's  let- 
teis:  ^ There  should  very  few  subjects  of  this  land  (England) 
have  access  to  a  conference  with  tbis  lady ;  for,  besides  that 
Bhe  is  a  goodly  personage,  she  hath,  withal,  an  alluring 
grace,  a  pretty  Scotch  speech,  and  a  searching  wit  cloudea 
with  mildness^  "Lord  Shrewsbury,"  he  proceeds,  "is 
verj/  watchful  of  his  charge,  but  the  queen  overwatches 
them  all,  for  it  is  one  o'clock  every  night  ere  she  go  to  bed, 
I  asked  her  grace,  since  the  weather  did  cut  off  all  exercise 
abroad,  how  she  passed  her  time  within.  She  said  that 
all  the  day  she  wrought  with  the  needle^  and  that  the 
diversity  of  the  colors  made  the  work  seem  less  tedious ; 
and  she  continued  so  long  that  even  pain  made  her  give 
over ;  and  with  that,  laid  her  hand  upon  her  side  and  com- 
plained of  an  old  grief  newly  increased  there.  She  then 
entered  upcn  a  pretty,  disputable  comparison  between 
carving,  pain  ing  and  working  with  the  needle,  aflSrming 
painting  in  he  -  opinion  for  the  most  commendable  quality."* 

And  this  is  *,he  manner  and  occupation  of  the  ruthless 
murderess  of  Darnley,  of  the  lewd  and  blood-stained  mis- 
tress of  grim  Both  well ! 

Elizabeth  and  her  cabinet  claimed  the  right  to  hold  hei 


Mary  tue  Captive. 


831 


aaptive  by  treaty !  because  she  had  borne  the  arms  ot 
England  when  in  France !  because  Elizabeth  had  the  besi 
right  to  the  Scottish  throne,  through  John  Baliol^  competi- 
tor of  Robert  Bruce !  and  because  English  subjects  k&d 
complained  of  Mary  "  in  matters  of  blood !" 

Norfolk's  intrigues ;  Westmorland  and  Northumbei 
'and's  rebellion  ;  Elizabeth's  excommunication ;  the  resist* 
ance  of  the  persecuted  English  Catholics ;  the  massacre  of 
the  French  Huguenots;  everything  indeed  was  visited 
upon  the  head  of  the  innocent  captive.  She  was  pro- 
hibited from  sending  messengers  to  her  friends  on  the  con* 
tinent.  Her  own  subjects  in  England  were  denied  access 
to  her.  Her  letters  were  intercepted  and  sent  to  Cecil. 
Her  faithful  servant  the  Bishop  of  Ross  was  cast  into 
prison.  She  was  refused  the  privilege  of  even  going  abroad, 
and  not  until  her  constitution  was  broken,  did  her  fiendish 
and  implacable  cousin  revoke  the  cruel  order. 

Charles  the  Ninth  died,  and  Catharine  de  Medicis,  who 
hated  her,  had  all  power  in  France.  Her  Scottish  loyal- 
ists were  gradually  impoverished,  ruined  and  destroyed. 
By-and-by  she  seemed  to  be  forgotten  of  all  the  world. 
Commissioners  were  occasionally  sent  to  her  to  treat  of 
"  reconciliation,"  "  leagues  of  amity,"  and  the  like,  but 
these  were  all  attempts  to  procure  Treaty  of  Edinburgh  or 
abdication  or  renunciation  of  her  faith.  Mary  remained 
firm,  and  her  chains  each  time  were  tightened. 

So  premature  old  age  crept  over  the  lovely  form  and  the 


S32 


Mary,  Queen  of  Scots 


Bweet  eyes  faded,  and  the  once  healthy  body  grew  ftih  of 
aches  and  pains.  At  Tutbury  she  was  enclosed  on  all  sidet 
by  fortified  walls,  on  the  summit  of  a  hill  that  lay  exposed 
to  every  wind  of  heaven.  Within  the  walls  was  an  ancient 
hunting  lodge  made  of  lath  and  plaster,  the  latter  damp 
and  crumbled  with  age.  This  building  was  sunk  so  low 
that  the  rampart  was  on  a  level  with  the  roof,  and  not  one 
ray  of  sunlight  could  get  in  to  warm  the  nursling  of  beau- 
tiful France.  Neither  could  fresh  air  penetrate,  but  driz- 
riing  damps  and  everlasting  fogs  covered  the  furniture 
with  green  mould. 

In  this  abode  she  had  two  small  chambers,  so  cold  as 
almost  to  defy  comfort ;  so  cold  as  to  sicken  every  one  of 
her  attendants.  Her  English  physician  refused  to  charge 
himself  with  her  health.  The  absolutely  requisite  places 
were  so  filthy  as  almost  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  use, 
and  in  order  to  complete  the  horrors  of  this  abode,  they 
chose  the  only  window  out  of  which  she  could  see,  as  the 
proper  position  opposite  which  to  hang  a  priest  !* 

It  may  easily  be  supposed  that  human  nature  could  not 
long  endure  this,  and  on  the  2d  of  May,  1580,  she  writes 
from  SheflBeld,  "  Pan  douzieme  de  ma  prison^''  reminding 
Elizabeth  of  the  many  letters  written  to  her  and  to  which 
ihe  had  not  deigned  to  reply,  and  imploring  her  to  moder 
ate  the  excessive  rigor  of  the  treatment 

"Consider,  madam,  if  you  please,  that  I  have  aevei 


Mary  the  Captive. 


333 


broken  a  promise  to  yoru  ;  nay,  because  I  have  sometimes 
kept  faith  with  you  too  inconsiderately,  I  have  greatly  suf- 
fered. Remember  that  you  can  make  and  keep  me  more 
your  own  out  of  prison,  by  touching  my  heart  with  so 
iignal  a  kindness,  than  you  can  by  guarding  my  body 
within  four  stone  walls ;  since  force  has  but  little  influence 
upon  people  of  my  rank  and  nature,  as  some  experience  of 
the  past  might  have  taught  you.  I  am  convinced  that  if 
you  will  remember  the  promise  which  yo-u  gave  me  with  a 
ring,  sometime  before  the  late  troubles  in  Scotland,  you 
will  recognize  how  I,  trusting  to  it,  came,  of  my  own  free 
and  deliberate  will,  to  place  myself  in  your  hands  and  to 
reclaim  from  your  plighted  word,  the  support  which  you 
promised  me  against  my  treacherous  rebel  subjects.  Not 
only  am  I  a  sovereign  queen,  but  your  nearest  relative  in 
Christendom  and  your  rightful  heiress.  What  reputation 
then  will  you  gain  if  you  pitilessly  permit  me  to  languish 
BO  many  years  in  sc  miserable  a  condition,  or  if,  by  a 
continuation  of  the  same  bad  treatment  I  have  hitherto 
received,  I  end  here  my  days  already  far  advanced. 

"  In  truth,  when  I  consider  the  grievous  maladies  con 
tracted  by  me  during  these  last  years,  and  my  present 
actual  state  of  health,  I  am  forced  to  believe  that  I  cannot 
bear  the  regimen  which  when  young  and  strong  I  could 
have  borne,  but  that  before  long  death  must  set  me 
free-'** 

•Labanoff,T.148L 


834       Mary,   Queen  of  So^)Tg. 
To  this  also  no  answer. 

Nor  ire  these  all  her  sorrows.  Her  w*\rm  and  ye^arnirg 
mother  heart  must  be  wrung  until  it  bleed.  If  she  write  to 
the  prince,  her  son,  her  letters  are  intercepted;  if  she 
implore  news  from  Elizabeth  or  her  mini'^ters,  no  answer  ta 
returned  ;  nor  is  she  allowed  to  send  to  him  and  give  him, 
though  it  were  only  at  second  hand,  assur<»nces  of  het  love, 
the  counsels  of  her  experience  or  her  hopes  in  his  affec- 
tion. But  the  bad  news  gets  to  her.  .She  knows  tbat  he 
has  forsaken  his  religion,  that  George  Buchannan.  her 
defamer,  is  his  tutor ;  she  is  sure  that  if  possible  they  will 
rob  her  of  his  love  a?id  even  his  respect.  She  fears  f  ^r  his 
very  life  from  ruthless  Morton,  and  ag'\in  from  fierce 
Ruthven,  who  as  is  well  known,  carried  him  off  in  the 
famous  Gowrie  conspiracy  or  Raid  of  Rmhven ;  and  all 
these  maternal  griefs  were  added  to  her  sli*eady  almost 
intolerable  sorrow. 

I  will  quote  her  own  words  for  one  del?cate  religious 
attention.  If  she  were  so  wicked  as  some  pay,  she  might 
have  been  allowed  a  clergyman  at  least.  But  for  yeai'S 
she  begged  to  be  allowed  to  see  one  without  h^ing  able  to 
obtain  permission.  Once,  as  she  writes  te  the  French 
ambassador  de  la  Mothe  Fendlon,  Nov.  22,  ^71,  from 
Tutbury. 

**J'avoy  demand^  ung  prestre  pour  m'adn»xnistrer  le 
Baiaet  Sacrement,  et,  en  Testat  oil  je  suis,  me  rengei  de 


Mary  the  Captive. 


835 


Lout  c«  qui  peult  nuire  a  ma  conscience,  et  ledit  Baitnoan* 
qui  estoit  iiorteur  de  ma  lettre  m'a  rapporte  en  lieu  de  con- 
solation ung  livre  difFamatoire  par  ung  athee  Bucannan." 

"  I  had  be?>o-ed  for  a  priest  to  administer  to  me  the  Holv 
Sacrament,  and  to  help  me  relieve  ray  conscience  in  this 
sad  condition  of  mine ;  and  they  who  carried  my  lettei 
brought  me  instead  of  consolation  the  diffamatory  hook  of 
the  atheist  George  Buchannan  !"f 

No  wonder  that  to  the  first  clergyman  she  could  write 
to  she  said,  "  I  thank  you  for  the  good  advice,  the  salutary 
counsels  and  learned  instructions  of  which  your  letter  is 
full.  They  have  given  me  infinite  consolation  in  my  cap- 
tivity. For  me  they  will  be  as  a  mirror  or  picture  to  show 
me  daily  my  shortcomings  in  action  as  well  as  the  grace 
that  I  shall  need,  to  accomplish  the  work  for  which  T 
hope  ray  God,  so  merciful  and  just,  hath  hitherto  left  me  in 
the  hands  of  His  chief  enemies.  With  all  my  heart  I 
implore  Him  that  it  may  be  for  His  glory,  and  the 
increase  of  His  Church,  rather  than  for  any  joy  to  me 
whose  continuance  in  sorrow  has  made  me  forget  th€ 
charms  of  the  world,  to  seek  my  true  remedy  in  the  life 
and  death  of  His  Son,  our  Saviour  and  Redeemer  Jesu? 
Ohrist.  And  now  I  am  more  than  ever  resoh  ed,  by  the 
help  of  His  grace,  to  follow  the  pathway  which  He  traced 

*  Bateman,  an  officer  in  Shef^eid  Castlo. 
t  LabanofT,  iv.  5 :  C&almers,  i.  251. 


336       Mart,  Queen  of  Soots. 

towards  the  Cross,  my  part  of  which  in  this  world  I  shah 
be  but  happy  to  bear,  that  so  I  may  gain  what  He  has 
acquired  for  me  in  his  kingdom  ;  a  gift  so  great  and  ines- 
'imable,  as  to  be  cheaply  purchased  even  by  the  sacrifice 
of  all  human  felicity,  though  that  were  separable  from  the 
pain  and  labor  of  this  life."* 

No  wonder  also  that  she  wrote  such  mournful  sonnets  ai 
the  one  which  I  shall  new  attempt  to  translate  by  way  of 
closing  this  chapter.  It  was  composed  by  her  in  SheflSeld, 
1681. 

Que  suis  je,  helas !  et  de  quoi  sert  ma  vie  ? 
Je  ne  suis  fors  q*un  corps  prive  de  coeur ; 
Un  ombre  vain ;  un  objet  de  malheur, 
Qui  n'a  plus  rien  que  de  mourir  envie. 
Plus  ne  portez,  0  ennemis,  d-envic 
A  qui  n'a  plus  Tesprit  a  la  grandeur ! 
Je  consomme  d'excessive  douleur ! 
Votre  ire,  en  bref,  se  voira  assouvie : 
Et  vous,  amis,  qui  m'avez  tenu  chere, 
Souvenez  vous  que  sans  heur,  sans  sant^ 
Je  ne  saurois  aucun  bon  ceuvre  faire ; 
Souhaitez  done  fin  de  calamite ; 
Et  que,  (ji-bas  etant  assez  punie 
J'aye  ma  part  en  la  joie  infinie ! 

Alas,  what  am  I  ?  what  is  my  life's  worth  ? 

What  but  the  clay  without  the  soul  am  I  ? 
Eat  a  vain  shadow  ;  sorrow's  sport  on  eartn. 

With  but  one  longing,  yearning  wish^ — to  dia^ 

>  Labanofl;  v.  TL 


Mart  the  Captitk 


Mentless  foemen,  do  not  envy  me, 

For  all  earth's  grandeur  fadcth  from  my  bea?t» 
Soon  will  your  sated  anger  set  me  free, 

And  my  own  sorrow  call  me  to  depart. 
And  you,  dear  friends,  so  true  through  all  my  wot^ 

Nought  can  I  give  you  for  your  love  again. 
Then  let  your  tears  for  me  forget  to  flow 

And  wish  the  end  of  this  my  lingering  pdn  f 
That,  travelling  wearily  life's  bitter  road, 
I  loo  may  find  repose  forever  with  my  Qod ! 


Chapter  VI. 
Counsel  for  the  Prisoner. 
Nov   8,  1582. 

I  EARNESTLY  ask  my  readers  not  to  be  frightened  at  tbe 
extreme  length  of  the  following  letter.  It  is  the  noblest 
piece  of  writing  that  ever  came  from  the  pen  of  the 
slaughtered  Queen  of  Scotland.  Logical,  inteihgent,  ener- 
gentic  as  it  is,  it  is  none  the  less  elegant,  tender  and  full  of 
wonderful  pathoa.  It  contains  the  whole  merits  of  hei 
captivity,  at  well  as  an  argument  for  her  innocence. 
Every  syllable,  in  the  original  is  beautifully  written  with 
her  own  hand ;  and  ibe  Prince  de  Labanoff,  from  whom  I 
take  it,*  says  that  it  has  not  yet  been  correctly  translated 
by  Blackwood,  Whittaker,  Chalmers  or  Mrs.  Strickland  f 
It  is  the  most  remarkable  paper  in  the  history  of  Mary's 
life,  and  I  hope  that  even  in  my  translation  some  of  the 
interest  and  excellence  of  the  original  will  be  found.  The 
letter  is  written  from  Sheffield  to  Elizabeth,  Nov.  8,  1582 
the  14th  year  of  Mary's  captivity,  and  is  as  follows: 


OOTTNSSL   FOB   THB   FrISONEB.  339 


If  ADAM  : 

In  consequerce  of  what  I  have  learned  about  the  late  conspi- 
racies against  my  poor  son,  in  Scotland,  and  having  every  occasion, 
from  my  own  experience,  to  fear  the  consequences,  I  must  employ 
what  life  and  strength  I  have  remaining,  to  empty  my  heart  to  you 
ere  I  die,  of  my  righteous  and  melancholy  complaints.  I  desire 
that  this  letter  may  serve  you  so  long  as  you  Hve  after  me,  for  a 
perpetual  testimony  engraven  on  your  conscience  ;  for  my  acquittal 
in  the  eyes  of  posterity,  and  for  the  shame  and  confusion  of  all 
who,  by  your  own  avowal,  have  so  cruelly  and  unworthily  treated 
me  here,  and  brought  me  to  the  extremity  in  which  I  now  ara. 
But  inasmuch  as  their  designs,  practices,  actions  and  procedures, 
detestable  as  they  have  been,  have  always  prevailed  with  you, 
agninst  my  most  just  remonstrances  and  ray  sincere  conduct,  and 
since  the  power  which  you  hold  has  aUvays  made  you  seem  right  in 
thf»  sight  of  men,  I  now  have  recouise  to  the  living  God,  who  has 
established  us  both,  under  Himself,  for  the  government  of  His 
pet  )ple. 

I  call  upon  Him,  in  this  extreme  hour  of  ray  urgent  affliction,  to 
refider  to  you  and  to  me,  that  part  of  merit  or  of  demerit,  that 
each  owes  to  the  other,  even  as  He  will  render  it  on  His  final  judg- 
ment. And  remember,  madam,  that  from  Him  we  can  disguise  no- 
thing, by  the  coloring  and  the  policy  of  this  world,  as  my  enemies, 
under  you,  have  temporarily  disguised  from  men,  and  perhaps  frona 
you,  their  subtle  and  malicious  inventions  and  their  godless  dex- 
terities. In  His  name,  therefore,  and  before  Him  as  judge  between 
you  and  me,  I  will  maintain  :  first,  That  by  the  agents,  spies  and 
secret  messengers,  sent  in  your  name  to  Scotland  while  I  was  still 
there,  my  subjects  have  been  corrupted,  tampered  with  and  excited 
to  rebel  against  me,  to  make  attempt  ?  against  my  own  person,  and 
in  &  word,  to  say,  do,  undertake  and  exeeute  whatever,  daring  mj 


840 


Mart,   Qfeen  of  Scots. 


troubles,  has  occurred  in  that  country.  Of  this  I  will  now  present 
no  other  rerification  than  the  confession  of  one  who  has  since  been 
one  of  the  most  advanced,*  and  the  testimony  of  those  confronted 
^ith  him  ;  of  one  advanced  for  the  good  service  he  has  done  ;  and 
who,  had  I  then  done  him  justice,  would  not  now,  by  favor  of  hia 
ancient  acquaintance,  have  renewed  the  same  practices  against  my 
son.  Neither  would  he  have  furnished  to  my  treacherous  ana 
rebel  subjects  who  sought  refuge  with  you,  the  aid  and  support  that 
they  have  received  since  my  detention  here;  a  support  without 
which  those  traitors  would  not,  I  think,  have  prevailed  then ;  nor 
have  subsisted  since  then  so  long  as  they  have  done. 

When  in  my  prison  of  Lochleven,  the  late  ThrQckmorton  couu- 
ielled  me,  in  your  name^  to  sign  the  act  of  aodication,  which  he  said 
would  be  presented  to  me,  and  which  he  assured  was  valueless ; 
and  valueless  it  has  ever  been  esteemed  in  every  portion  of  Christ- 
endom, except  here,  where  even  open  force  has  been  lent  to  support 
its  authors.  On  your  conscience,  madam,  would  you  recognize  such 
liberty  and  power  ia  your  subjects  ?  Yet  my  authority  was  given 
by  my  subjects  to  my  son  while  utterly  incapable  of  exercising  it, 
and  since  he  has  arrived  at  a  proper  age  to  act  for  himself,  and,  when 
I  would  have  legitimately  assured  him  in  it,  it  is  suddenly  torn  frona 
him,  made  over  to  two  or  three  traitors,!  who  having  already 
robbed  him  of  the  reality,  will  soon  rob  him  also,  as  they  did  me,  of 
the  name  and  title,  should  he  contradict  them  at  all,  and  perhaps 
of  hifl  life  also  if  God  provides  not  for  his  preservation 

So  soon  as  I  escaped  from  Lochleven,  and  was  about  to  givs 
battle  to  my  rebellious  lords,  I  sent  you  back,  by  a  gentleman,  a 

♦  Rtedolph,  whose  dealings  with  the  rebels  are  recorded  in  the  eatller  pagei 
*f  Uiis  volume.— Vide  p.  95w 
t  Leimoz,  Mar,  Morton,  eta 


Counsel  for  the  Prisoner.  341 


diamond  ring  which  I  had  previously  received  from  you  in  token 
and  assurance  that  you  would  aid  me  against  those  very  rebels,  and 
even,  should  I  retire  towards  you,  that  you  would  come  in  person  to 
the  frontier  to  assist  me  :  and  this  was  confirmed  to  me  by  varioiw 
other  messages.  This  promise,  coming  reiterated  from  your  own 
mouth  (or  if  not  your  ministers  have  frequently  deceived  me),  caused 
me  to  put  so  great  confidence  in  you,  that  when  my  field  was  lost, 
I  came  at  once  to  throw  myself  into  your  arras,  if  I  might  have 
that  privilege  as  well  as  the  rebels.  But  on  my  road  to  find  you, 
behold  me  arrested  on  my  way,  environed  with  guards,  confined 
in  fortresses  and  finally  reduced,  shamelessly,  into  the  captivity 
which  is  now  killing  me ;  me  who  have  already  suffered  a  thou- 
sand mortal  pangs. 

I  know  you  will  allege  what  passed  between  the  late  Duke  of 
Norfolk  and  me;  but  I  maintain  that  there  was  nothing  in  our  deal- 
ings to  your  prejudice  nor  against  the  public  good  of  this  realm ; 
and  that  the  treaty  was  formed  by  the  advice  and  still  existing  signa- 
tures of  the  first  men  of  your  then  council,  with  an  assurance  that 
you  too  would  favor  it.  How  would  such  personages  undertake 
to  perthiade  you  to  approve  of  an  act  which  would  destroy  your 
life,  honor  and  crown,  as  you  declare  to  all  ambassadors  and  others 
who  speak  to  you  of  me  ? 

Meanwhile,  my  rebels,  perceiving  that  their  precipitate  course 
was  carrying  them  further  than  they  anticipated,  and  th^  truth 
having  appeared  that  what  they  uttered  against  me  were  slanders^ 
before  the  conference  to  which  I  voluntarily  submitted  in  this  coun* 
try,*  in  order  to  clear  myself  publicly  in  open  assembly  of  your 

♦  The  French  is  rather  iuvertecL  Ei  la  veriU  estant  apparue  des  iw pos- 
tures qu*oti  iemoU  de  moy^  par  la  Conference  a  laqueUe  je  me  soubmis 
tohwtairement  en  ce  pays^  It  k  this  sentence  which  Labancff  says  baa 
kwo  seoerally  ill  rendered,  v.  Stt. 


842 


MarTj  Queen  of  Soots. 


deputies  and  mine,  many  among  them  returned  to  their  lojalty 
and  for  this  they  were  pursued  by  your  own  forces,  besieged  in 
Edinbnrg  Castle ;  one  of  the  first  among  them  poisoned  ;*  and 
another,  the  least  blamable  among  them,  most  cruelly  hanged, f 
although,  at  your  request,  I  had  twice  caused  them  to  lay  down 
Uieii  arm?,  under  assurance  of  agreement,  which  perhaps  my 
eaemies  never  even  intended. 

For  a  long  time  I  was  willing  to  try  whether  patience  would 
mitigate  the  rigorous  treatment  to  which  I  have  been  subjected, 
especially  during  these  ten  years  past ;  and  I  accommodated  myseli 
exactly  to  the  order  prescribed,  during  my  captivity  in  this 
house,  as  well  with  regard  to  the  number  and  quality  of  my  r^rvi- 
tors,  as  to  the  diet  and  exercise  necessary  for  my  health.  I  have 
lived  hitherto  as  quietly  and  peaceably  as  any  one  of  far  lower 
rank  and  far  more  obliged  to  you  than  ever  I  have  been ;  even 
depriving  myself,  to  remove  all  shadow  of  suspicion  or  distrust  on 
your  part,  of  the  right  to  demand  intelligence  from  my  son  and  my 
country.  There  was  neither  right  nor  reason  in  refusing  me  this  in- 
telligence, particularly  about  my  son,  but  instead  of  that,  they  la» 
bored  to  influence  him  against  me,  so  to  enfeeble  both  by  dis^nsioa 
You  will  say  I  was  permitted  to  send  to  him  three  years  ago.  Hh 
captivity  in  Sterlin^^  under  the  tyranny  of  Morton,  was  the  cause  of 
your  permission^  as  the  liberty  he  has  since  enjoyed  is  the  cau!»e 
of  your  refusing  a  similar  permission  all  this  past  year. 

I  have  at  various  times  made  overtures  for  the  establishment  of 
A  80'jnd  amity  between  us,  and  a  sure  understanding  between  our 
two  kingdoms  for  the  future.  Commissioners  were  sent  to  me  for 
that  purpose  at  Chats  worth  about  eleven  years  ago.  The  am  baa- 
dors  of  France  and  my  own  treated  of  it  with  your  own  self.  And 

•  liaitUnd  of  Lethington.  t  Sb  W.  Kbkaldy  of  ^nMifx 


Counsel  for  the  Peisonee. 


343 


I,  throughout  the  past  year  made  every  possible  advantageoua 
proposition  to  Beale.*  An  J  what  is  the  result  ?  My  good  intentions 
are  mistaken  ;  the  sincerity  of  my  acts  neglected  and  calumniated ; 
the  condition  of  my  affairs  made  worse  by  delays,  surmises  and 
tuch  other  arUfices  and,  to  conclude,  worse  and  worse  treatment 
every  day,  no  matter  what  I  may  have  done  to  deserve  the  contrary 
My  too  long,  useless  and  ruinous  patience  has  brought  me  to  such 
a  point,  that  my  enemies,  accustomed  from  of  old  to  do  me  evil, 
now  think  they  have  a  right  by  prescription  to  use  me,  not  as  a 
prisoner  (which  in  reason  I  cannot  be)  but  as  a  slave,  whose  life 
and  death  depends,  regardless  of  God's  law  or  of  man's,  upon 
their  tyranny  alone. 

I  cannot,  madam,  suffer  any  longer ;  and  I  musty  even  in  dying 
expose  the  authors  of  my  death ;  or  living,  if  God  shall  grant  me 
still  some  respite,  endeavor,  under  your  protection,  to  destroy,  at 
any  price,  the  cruelties,  calumnies  and  treacherous  designs  of  my 
enemies,  and  obtain  for  myself  a  little  repose  during  the  time  I  may 
nave  to  live.  In  order  therefore  to  settle  the  pretended  controver- 
sies between  you  and  me,  eulighten  yourself,  if  you  please,  upon  all 
that  has  been  told  you  of  my  conduct  with  regard  to  you.  Re- 
read the  despositions  of  the  foreigners  taken  in  Ireland,  f  Let 
those  of  the  executed  Jesuits:]:  be  shown  to  you.  Give  free  liberty 
to  any  one  who  will  undertake  to  accuse  me,  and  permit  me  also  to 
make  my  defence.  If  there  be  found  any  ill  in  me,  let  me  suffer  for 
It.  I  can  do  so  more  patiently  when  I  know  the  reason— but  if 
gfKtd  he  discovered,  mistake  me  no  longer,  nor  suffer  me  any  more 

♦  Secretary  of  Elizabeth's  council,  sent  really  as  a  spy,  ostensibly  to  treat 
lith  Mary.   See  her  letter  to  him.   Labanoff,  v.  288, 
t  During  the  troubles  with  O'Neal  of  Desmond. 

X  Gampian,  Sherwin  and  Briant,  executed  for  high  treason  for  preaching  tlui 
DstboUc  Paith.—Iingard,  vt  168. 


844 


Mary,   Queen  of  Scotb 


to  be  io  11  repaid.  You  have  so  great  a  resposibility  to  God  and 
man. 

The  vilest  criminals  in  your  prisons,  born  under  obedience  to 
fou.  are  permitted  to  justify  themselves,  and  to  know  both  the  accu»« 
9ta  and  their  charges.  Why  should  the  same  order  not  be  taken 
with  me,  a  sovereign  queen,  your  nearest  relative  and  lawful 
heiress.  I  fancy  that  this  last  quality  has  been  the  principal 
point  of  my  enemies  and  the  cause  of  their  calumnies,  that  by 
causing  disunion  between  us,  they  might  slip  their  own  unjust  pre- 
tensions in  between  us.  But,  alas,  they  have  little  right  and  less 
need  to  torture  me  any  more  on  that  account,  for  I  protest  on  my 
honor,  that  I  now  look  forward  to  no  other  kingdom  than  that  of 
my  God,  which  I  see  prepared  for  me,  as  my  best  recompense  for 
all  my  past  afflictions  and  adversities.  It  will  be  your  duty  con* 
scientiously  to  see  my  child  put  in  possession  of  his  rights  after  my 
death  ;  and  meantime  to  restrain  the  constant  intrigues  and  secret 
means  taken  by  our  enemies  in  this  realm  to  his  prejudice  and  to 
advance  their  own  pretensions,  while,  at  the  same  time,  they  ar< 
laboring  with  our  traitors  in  Scotland  to  effect  in  every  way  hi:i 
ruin.  I  ask  no  better  verification  of  this  than  the  charge  given 
to  your  last  envoys  and  deputies  to  Scotland,  and  the  seditious 
practices  of  those  envoys,  of  which  I  am  willing  to  believe  yon 
ignorant,  but  to  which  they  were  diligently  incited  by  the  earl, 
my  good  neigLbor,  at  Y3rk.* 

Apropos,  madam,  by  what  right  is  it  main^'ained  th&t  I,  his 
mother,  am  interdicted  not  only  from  aiding  my  child  in  so  urgent 
ft  necessity  as  this,  but  even  from  having  information  about  his 
condition?  Who  can  bring  more  carefulness,  sense  of  duty  and 
luncerity  to  this  than  I  ?    Whom  can  it  touch  more  nearly  ? 

At  least,  if,  in  sending  to  provide  for  his  safety,  as  the  Earl  ol 

*  Bad  of  HuDtiz^oo,  who  bad  Boa>«  slaim  to  the  Bngiisb  tbrooik 


Counsel  for  the  Prisoner.  34£ 


Bhretfibury  lately  told  me  you  have  done,  if  it  had  pleased  you  ta 
receive  my  advice  therein,  how  much  greater  (it  seems  to  mej  a 
gratification  and  obligation  on  my  part  would  have  accrued  to  you 
But  consider  what  you  left  me  to  think,  when  forgetting  so  sud 
denly  the  pretended  offences  of  my  son,  and  when  I  begged  that 
we  might  send  together,  you  dispatched  a  messenger  to  the  place  of 
his  imprisonment,  not  only  without  informing  me,  but  while  depriv- 
ing me  of  all  liberty  so  that  I  could  not  by  any  means  get  news  of 
it.  Ah,  had  they  who  moved  you  to  so  prompt  a  visitation  to  my 
Bon,  really  desired  his  preservation  and  the  peace  of  the  country, 
they  had  not  been  so  careful  to  conceal  it  from  me,  as  a  thing  in 
which  I  would  not  concur  with  you,  and  thus  caused  you  to  lose  the 
pleasure  which  you  would  have  received  by  so  doing.  To  speak 
more  plainly  to  you,  I  beseech  you  to  make  no  more  use  of  such 
means  and  persons,  for  although  I  hold  Mr.  Carey*  too  mindful  of 
the  blood  from  which  he  is  sprung,  to  engage  his  honor  in  any  bad 
action,  yet  he  had  an  assistant,  a  sworn  partisan  of  the  Earl  of 
Huntington,  by  whose  evil  offices,  so  base  an  action  only  could 
succeed  by  a  like  effect.  It  will  suffice  me  if  you  will  hmt  prevent 
all  damage  to  my  son  from  this  country,  which  is  all  that  I  have 
ever  hitherto  asked  of  you,  even  when  an  army  was  sent  to  the 
frontier  to  hinder  justice  from  being  done  to  the  detestablo 
Morton  ;  and  also  that  none  of  your  subjects  shall  meddle  directly 
nor  indirectly  with  the  affairs  of  Scotland,  unless  I,  who  have  a 
light  to  such  knowledge,  know  of  it ;  or  without  the  assistance  (A 
eorjie  one  on  the  part  of  the  most  Christian  king,  my  good 
brother,  who,  as  our  principal  ally,  should  participate  in  all  this 
matter,  however  little  credit  he  may  have  with  the  traitors  who 
now  detain  my  son. 

*  Son  of  Lord  Hunsdon,  who,  on  the  motber^s  aide,  was  coosin-^smiaD  U 
Enkabeth. 

15* 


B46 


Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 


Meantime,  I  declare  to  you  frankly,  that  I  consider  thii  lui 
conspiracy*  and  innovation  as  a  pure  treason  against  the  life  ol 
my  son,  his  well-being  and  that  of  the  kingdom ;  and  that  so  long 
ft8  he  remains  in  the  condition  in  which  I  hear  he  is,  I  shall  not 
believe  that  any  word,  writing  or  other  act  of  his  or  that  may  pasa 
ander  his  name,  proceeds  from  his  own  free  will,  but  solely  from 
the  conspirators  themselves,  who  risk  his  life  in  using  him  as  » 
mask. 

Now,  madam,  with  all  this  liberty  of  speech  which  I  foresee  may 
displease  you  in  some  points, f  although  the  very  truth  itself,  yet  I 
am  persuaded  you  will  find  it  still  more  singular  that  I  now  again 
fmportune  you  with  a  request,  which  is  of  the  greatest  importance, 
yet  which  you  can  most  easily  grant  and  effect.  It  is  that,  while 
patiently  accommodating  myself  so  long  to  the  rigorous  course  of 
this  captivity ;  while  conducting  myself  in  all  things  with  perfect 
sincrtity,  even  in  the  least  thing,  which  interest  you  but  little, 
I  have  y^t  been  unable  to  assure  myself  of  your  good  disposi- 
tion, nor  yet  give  you  proof  of  my  entire  affection.  Therefore, 
all  hope  of  anything  better  for  the  short  time  I  have  to  live  being 
lost,  I  implore  you,  yet,  in  honor  of  the  bitter  Passion  of  our  Saviour 
and  Redeemer  Jesus  Christ,  I  implore  you,  let  me  leave  this 
kingdom  for  some  place  of  rest ;  to  seek  some  solace  for  this  poor 
body  so  worn  with  perpetual  sorrows,  and  with  freedom  of  con- 
science, to  prepare  my  soul  for  God  who  is  cailicg  it  day  by  d%y 

Believe  me,  madam  (and  the  physicians  you  sent  me  last  sum 
mer,  may  also  have  judged  of  it),  believe  me  I  cannot  hst  long>  so 
that  you  need  retain  no  jealousy  nor  distrust  of  me.  Yet,  nevei>. 
Iheless,  exact  what  assurances  and  just  and  reasonable  conditions 

•  The  Raid  of  Ruthyen  or  Gowrie  conspiraej* 
t  ffigWy  probable. 


Counsel   for  the   Prisoner  347 


may  seem  good  in  your  sight.  The  greater  strength  is  always  on 
your  side  to  make  me  observe  them,  even  if  anything  could  make 
me  desire  to  violate  them.  You  have  had  sufficient  experience 
and  observation  enough  of  my  simple  promises,  and  sometimes  to 
my  prejudice,  as  1  showed  you  two  years  ago.  Remember,  if 
you  please,  what  then  I  wrote  you,  that  "by  no  means,  save 
gentleness,  could  you  bind  my  heart  to  yours,  even  though  you 
confined  my  poor  languishing  body  for  ever  within  stone  walls, 
for  that  those  of  my  rank  and  nature  could  be  cajoled  nor  forced 
by  any  severity  whatever." 

Your  prison,  without  any  right  or  just  cause,  has  already  de- 
stroyed my  body,  the  last  of  which  you  will  soon  see,  if  my  captiv- 
ity endure  much  longer,  and  my  enemies  will  have  but  short  time 
to  satisfy  their  hatred  of  me.    There  remains  to  me  only  my 
soul,  which  is  beyond  your  power  to  make  captive.    Give  to  it  then  the 
liberty  to  seek,  a  little  more  freely,  its  salvation,  which  now  it  longs 
Cor  more  than  any  earthly  grandeur.    It  cannot,  I  think,  satisfy 
you  or  be  to  your  honor  or  advantage,  if  my  enemies  crush  my 
life  beneath  their  feet,  until  I  lie  suffocated  before  you ;  while  on 
the  other  hand  if  you  release  me,  in  this  extremity  (although  too 
late),  you  will  greatly  oblige  me  and  mine,  especially  my  poor  child, 
whom  by  so  doing  you  will  perhaps  bind  to  yourself.    I  will  never 
cease  to  importune  you  with  this  request  until  it  be  granted,  and 
therefore  I  beg  you  to  let  me  know  what  you  intend,  having,  to 
please  you,  waited  without  complaint  for  these  two  years  past,  ere 
I  renewed  the  entreaties  to  which  the  wretched  condition  of  my 
health  compels  me  more  than  you  can  imagine.    Meantime,  pro- 
vide, if  you  please,  for  the  amelioration  of  my  treatment  here, 
iince  it  is  beyond  my  power  to  suffer  longer ;  ar  i  do  not  leave  it 
to  the  discretion  of  any  other  than  yourself,  /rowi  whom  alonCy  as  I 
Vrrote  you  lately,  I  wish  to  receive  all  the  good  and  wU  whick 


348 


Mary,  Queen  of  Soots. 


Henceforward  lam  to  have  in  your  country.  Do  me  the  favor  to 
write  your  intentions  either  to  me  or  to  the  French  ambassador  foi 
me,  for  as  to  being  tied  up  to  what  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury  or 
Others  may  write  in  your  name,  I  have  had  too  much  experience  to 
pnt  my  trust  in  that,  their  lightest  fancy  being  sufficient  warrant 
for  the  change  of  everything  about  me  daily. 

Besides,  when  I  lately  wrote  to  members  of  your  council  you 
gave  me  to  understand  that  I  was  not  to  address  myself  to  them 
but  to  you  only,  and  it  is  not  reasonable  to  extend  their  authority 
only  to  do  me  evil,  as  in  this  last  restriction  of  theirs,  by  which, 
contrary  to  your  desire,  I  have  most  shamefully  been  dealt  with. 
This  gives  me  every  reason  to  believe  that  some  of  my  enemies  in 
your  counsel  have  expressly  hindered  other  members  thereof  from 
hearing  my  just  complaints,  and  who  either  knew  not  the  persist- 
ent endeavors  of  their  companions  against  my  life,  or  had  they 
known  them,  would  have  opposed  them  for  your  honor's  sake  and 
their  duty  to  you. 

Finally,  I  particularly  request  two  things  of  you  :  first,  that,  near 
as  I  am  to  my  departure  from  this  world,  I  may  have  near  me  some 
honorable  churchman,  who  will  point  out  to  me  daily  the  way  I 
have  to  walk,  and  instruct  me  to  do  so  according  to  the  rules  of 
my  religion,  in  which  I  am  firmly  resolved  to  live  and  die.  It  is  a 
last  duty  which  should  not  be  refused  to  the  most  wretched  and 
miserable  being.  It  is  a  hberty  which  you  extend  to  every  foreign 
ambassador,  and  which  all  Catholic  kings  extend  to  yours.  And  I 
have  ever  forced  any  of  my  subjects  to  do  anything  contrary  to 
their  religion  even  when  I  had  power  and  authority  so  to  do  ?  And 
now  in  this  extremity  you  cannot  act  justly  and  deprive  me  of  tliia 
freedom.  What  advantage  could  you  gain  in  refusing  it  ?  I  trust 
that  God  will  oardon  rae,  if  thus  oppressed  by  you,  I  render  Iliin 
ihe  duty  I  owe  only,  as  is  permitted  me,  in  my  heart.   Bat  ywi 


Counsel  for  the  Prisoner.  349 


irill  set  a  very  bad  example  to  tke  other  princes  of  Christendom, 
to  use  towards  their  subjects  and  relatives  the  same  rig»or  that  you 
exhibit  towards  me,  a  sovereign  queen,  and  your  nearest  kins- 
woman, in  despite  of  my  enemies,  as  I  am  and  will  be  so  long  as  1 
live. 

I  will  not  importune  you  now  about  the  augmentation  of  my 
Household,  of  which  I  shall  have  no  great  need  during  the  time  I 
have  to  live.  I  only  ask  of  you  two  chamber-women  to  take  care  of 
me  in  my  illness ;  protesting  before  God  that  they  would  be 
extremely  necessary  were  I  even  a  poor  creature  of  the  simple 
people.  Grant  them  to  me  for  the  honor  of  God,  and  show  that 
my  enemies  have  not  credit  enough  with  you  to  exercise  their 
vengeance  and  cruelty  in  a  matter  of  so  little  consequence,  in  so 
simple  an  oflSce  of  humanity. 

I  come  now  to  the  accusation  of  the  said  Shrewsbury  (if  accuse 
me  he  can),  namely,  that  against  my  promise  given  to  Beale  and 
without  your  knowledge,  I  have  negotiated  with  my  son  about 
yielding  him  the  title  to  the  crown  of  Scotland,  after  having  pro- 
mised to  do  nothing  without  your  advice  and  by  one  of  my  sub* 
jects,  who,  in  their  common  voyage  should  be  directed  by  one  of 
yours.  These  I  believe  are  the  precise  terms  of  the  said  earl.  I 
would  tell  you,  madam,  that  Beale  never  received  any  simple  and 
absolute  promise  from  me  ;  but  several  conditional  propositions,  by 
which  I  could  not  in  any  way  be  bound  save  in  the  fulfillment  ot 
the  conditions  upon  which  they  were  based  by  me ;  with  which 
conditions  he  was  so  little  satisfied,  that  I  have  never  even  had 
iny  reply  to  them,  nor  in  your  heart  even  heard  them  so 
much  as  mentioned  since ;  and,  with  regard  to  that,  I  remember 
perfectly  well,  that  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  last  Easter,  desiring  to 
draw  from  me  some  new  confirmation  of  what  I  had  said  to  Beale, 
I  explaiiaed  clearly  to  him,  that  it  was  only  in  case  that  the  said 


S50 


Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 


conditiocs  were  accorded  to  me,  that  my  words  could  take  eifecl 
Both  are  still  living  to  testify  to  this  before  you  if  they  will  ii 
Bpeak  the  truth.  Since  that,  seeing  that  no  answer  was  made  to 
me,  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  by  delays  and  negligence,  ra  y  ene- 
mies continued  more  licentiously  than  ever  their  intrigues,  arranged 
since  Beale's  visit  to  me,  to  thwart  my  just  intentions  in  Scotland, 
as  the  effect  has  thoroughly  shown,  and  have  thus  opened  a  door 
for  the  ruin  of  my  son  and  myself,  I  took  your  silence  for 
refusal  and  discharged  myself  by  letters  express  to  you  and  your 
council  of  all  that  I  had  treated  with  Beale. 

I  made  you  a  participant  of  all  that  the  king,  my  brother-in-law, 
and  the  queen  my  mother-in-law,*  had  written  to  me  with  their 
own  hands  about  this  affair,  and  asked  your  advice  about,  which  t« 
ttill  to  comcy  although  by  it  it  was  my  intention  to  proceed  had  you 
given  it  me  in  time,  or  had  you  permitted  me  to  send  to  my  son, 
and  assisted  me  in  the  overtures  I  made  you  about  establishing  a 
sound  friendship  and  perfect  understanding  between  this  realm  for 
the  future.  But  to  oblige  me  at  once  to  follow  your  advice  before 
I  could  know  what  it  was,  and  in  the  journey  of  our  people  to  make 
mine  subject  to  yours,  even  in  my  own  country,  I  was  never  so 
simple  as  even  to  think  of. 

And  now,  if  you  have  known  the  false  play  which  my  enemiei 
have  used  in  Scotland,  to  bring  matters  to  their  present  condition,* 
I  leave  it  to  your  consideration  which  of  us  has  proceeded  motft 
sincerely.  God  be  judge  between  them  and  me,  and  turn  from 
this  island.  His  just  punishment  of  their  demerits.  Look  onc« 
more,  at  the  intelligence  that  my  traitor  subjects  in  Scotland 
may  have  given  you.  You  will  find,  and  I  will  maintain 
It  before  all  Christian  princes,  that  I  have  never  done  anything  to 
fonr  prejudice,  nor  against  the  welfare  or  peace  of  this  kingdom, 

•  Hny  IXZ.,  and  Oatbarine  de  Medlck.  *  Tbe  Raid  of  Ruthvviw 


Counsel  for  the  Peisoner.  361 


Df  which  I  am  do  less  desirous  than  any  counsellor  or  subject  of 
JoivtSy  having  more  interest  in  it  than  they.  It  has  been  suggested 
to  gratify  my  son  with  the  title  and  name  of  king,  to  assure  him  of 
the  said  title  and  the  rebels'  impunity  for  their  all  past  offences,  and 
fo  to  put  all  things  in  a  condition  of  peace  and  tranquillity  for  the 
future,  without  any  innovation  whatever.  Was  that  to  deprive  my 
•on  of  the  crown  ?  My  enemies,  I  believe,  do  not  wish  him'sure  of 
it,  and  for  that  reason  are  quite  content  that  he  should  possess  it 
by  the  illegal  violence  of  certain  traitors,  foes  from  of  old  of  oui 
race.  Was  it  to  seek  justice  for  the  past  deeds  of  those  trai- 
tors, justice  which  my  clemency  has  always  surpassed  ?  An  evil 
conscience  can  never  be  at  rest,  carrying,  as  it  does,  its  chief  fear 
and  greatest  trouble  continually  with  it.  Was  it  a  desire  to 
change  the  repose  of  the  country  ? — to  procure  it  by  a  gentle  abo- 
lition of  all  things  past  and  a  general  reconciliation  of  our  subjects? 
What  is  it  that  my  said  enemies  fear  from  that  as  much  as  they 
make  demonstration  of  desiring  it?  What  prejudice  could  be 
done  to  you  by  this  ?  Mark  down  and  cause  to  be  verified  what 
other  thing  there  is  if  yo«  please ;  I  will  answer  it  on  my  honor. 

Alas,  madam,  will  you  let  yourself  be  so  blinded  by  the  artifices 
of  my  enemies,  who  (act)  only  to  establish  their  unjust  pretensions 
to  this  crown  after  you,  and  perhaps  against  you?  You  suffer 
them,  you  living  and  seeing  them  to  ruin,  and  cause  cruelly  to  perish, 
those  who  are  so  near  to  you  in  heart  and  blood  !  What  honor  oi 
good  can  result  to  you  by  their  keeping  my  child  so  long  sepa- 
rated from  me  and  both  of  us  from  you  ? 

Resume  those  ancient  pledges  of  your  natura!  goodness,  draw 
your  own  to  you  by  your  kindness :  give  me  this  contentmeuf 
before  I  die,  that,  seeing  all  things  sett.ed  between  us,  my  soul, 
freed  from  the  body,  may  not  be  compelled  to  pour  out  its  com- 
plftiatB  to  God  for  the  wrongs  you  have  suffered  to  be  done  to  uf 


852 


Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 


herie  below,  but  rather,  that  departing  from  this  captivityin  peace 
and  concord  with  you,  I  may  go  to  Him  whom  I  pray  to  inspire 
you  to  see  my  very  just  and  more  than  reasonable  complaints  and 
frieTances. 

Sheffield,  this  8  November, 

Your  most  desolate,  nearest  cousin, 
And  affectionate  sister, 

To  this  sad  letter  there  was  no  reply. 


Chapter  VII. 

Mary's    Last  Crime 
1583—1568. 

Lord  God  the  Eternal 

My  hope  is  in  Thee ; 
Now,  Jesu  beloved 

Oh  liberate  me  t 
From  bitterest  prison 
My  sighs  have  arisen 

In  anguish  to  Thee. 
With  weeping  and  walling 
And  lowliest  Icneeling, 
t  adore  and  implore  thee 

To  liberate  me  1 

A  FEW  more  sorrows,  a  little  more  lingering  wiptivity,  a 
new  lesson  or  two  of  the  hollo wn ess  of  this  1^  arld's  truth 
and  worth,  a  little  more' prison-mould  to  whiten  the  abund- 
ant hair  and  then  that  yearning  supplication  shall  be 
granted.  She  shall  see  her  son  desert  her,  her  servants 
betray   her,  new  enemies  defame,  old  hatred  revive 


B54 


Mart,  Queen  of  Soots. 


against  her,  the  ruin  of  her  health,  the  destruction  of  hei 
hopes,  the  triumph  of  her  persecutors  and  yet  she  shall  at 
ast  be  able  to  say, 

Yet  can  my  spirit  turn  to  Thee,  Thou  Ghastener,  and  can  bend 
In  humble  suppliance  at  Thy  throne  my  Father  and  my  Friend  1 
Thou  who  has  crowned  my  youth  with  hope,  my  early  days  in  glee, 
Giye  me  the  eagle's  fearless  wing,  the  dove's  to  mount  to  Thee  1 
I  lose  my  foolish  hopes  on  life,  its  passions  and  its  fears : — 
How  brief  the  yearning  ecstasies  of  its  young  careless  years ! 
I  give  my  heart  to  earth  no  more,  the  grave  may  clasp  me  now ; 
The  wind  whose  tones  I  loved  may  play  in  the  dark  cypress  bough ; 
The  birds,  the  streams,  are  eloquent,  yet  I  shall  pass  away, 
And  in  the  light  of  heaven  shake  off  this  cumbrous  load  of  clay, 
1  shall  join  the  lost,  the  loved  of  earth  and  meet  each  kindred  breast, 
Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling  and  th#  weary  are  at  Fest."* 

Calumny  had  not  quite  done  with  her,  prematurely  old 
tk^  she  was,  broken-hearted  and  disapt)ointed  in  all  her 
affections  as  she  was  and  physically  so  re<Hioed  that  she  was 
obliged  to  be  carried  about  in  a  chair.  The  Countess  of 
Shrewsbury  and  her  two  sons,  the  Cavend'shcs,  diligienth' 
Bpread  reports  of  improper  conduct  between  hei  and  the 
«ar]  her  guardian.  She  wrote  in  vain  to  Elizabf  tK  biit  coul^ 
get  no  redress,  and  not  until  the  slanders  reachec^  Shrews 
bury's  ears  were  they  checked.  That  nobleman  con^p^ainoo 
lo  his  queen :  the  countess  and  her  sons  were  called  S^^or€ 
that  sovereign  and  then  and  there  acknowledged  Ibe 
malignant  falsehood  of  their  assertions.f 

And  then  she  opened  negotiations  with  her  son,  employipjj: 


Mart's  Last  CaiME. 


85& 


ind  ihoroughly  confiding  in  the  Master  of  Gray  for  the 
execution.  But  he,  like  many  an  other  Scotchman  of  the 
time,  sold  her  to  England,  betrayed  all  her  councils 
influenced  the  young  prince  against  her,  and  at  last  induce^^ 
him  to  write  to  Elizabeth  and  declare  that  ho  had  no. 
formed,  nor  would  form  any  association  with  his  mother. 
To  that  unhappy  lady,  the  unworthy  lad  declared  that  he 
could  consent  to  no  partition  of  the  throne,  that  she  was 
only  Queen  Dowager  of  Scotland  and  must  content  herself 
with  an  empty  regal  title  without  any  power  whatever. 

For  this  dutiful  epistle,  and  as  a  bribe  for  future  mean- 
ness Elizabeth  bestowed  upon  James  a  pension  of  £5000* 
The  after  service  w^as  soon  performed.  A  treaty  in 
defence  of  the  Evangelical  religion,  and  for  the  establish- 
ment of  mutual  amity  between  the  kingdoms  was  signed. 
In  it  was  no  reference  to  the  Queen  of  Scotland,  to  the 
broken-hearted  mother,  perishing  in  her  English  prison.f 

All  this  time  eveiy  letter  written  by  Mary  was  carried  at 
once  to  Cecil  or  Walsingham.  She  wrote  much,  and  sent 
touch  through  de  Mauvissiere  the  French  ambassador. 
Ckerelles  was  the  name  of  his  secretary,  and  he,  bought  by 
^he  English  ministers,  betrayed  to  them  every  letter  tha 
passed  through  his  hands.J  By-and-by  her  own  secre- 
taries, Naue  and  Curie  will  be  set  against  her;  and  so 
the  denouement  of  the  drama  will  come  about. 

On  the  25th  of  Augusi,  1584,  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury 

•  fiobert»A,2S6.        t  Labanofl;  tL  88^        t  Ibid  v.  61,  vi  USQ,  <m 


556       Mary,  Queen  of  Sgots. 

was  replaced  temporarily  by  Sir  Ralph  Sadler,  and  finally, 
April  17,  1585,  by  Sir  Amyas  Paulet,  a  fitting  gaoler.  He 
was  a  stern  and  even  fanatical  Puritan;  often  enterinc* 
Mary's  presence  covered  and  without  any  respect ;  a  bluff 
rude  man,  who  was  delighted  with  the  severity  which  ha 
had  been  enjoined  to  use  towards  the  papist  queen.  Let 
his  fitness  for  his  post  be  judged  of  from  his  own  letters. 
On  being  ordered  by  Cecil  to  take  good  care  that  the 
queen  should  not  escape,  he  says  that  his  guard  is  too 
rigorous  to  fear  that,  and  adds,  "  Should  I  be  violently 
attacked,  I  will  be  assured  by  the  Grace  of  God  that  she 
^halldie  before  mer^ 

When  ordered  to  rob  her  of  what  money  might  be 
found  in  her  possession,  he  performs  his  task  in  the  follow- 
ing gentle  manner.  He  was  assisted  in  the  pleasing  duty 
hy  one  Mr.  Richard  Bagott,  who  thus  has  purchased  foi 
his  name,  otherwise  unnoticeable,  a  certain  share  of  infa 
mous  immortality. 

"  The  next  morning,"  says  Paulet,  "  we  had  access  to  tha 
queen  whom  we  found  in  bed,  troubled,  after  the  old  man 
ner  with  a  defluxion,  which  was  fallen  down  into  the  side 
of  her  neck  and  had  bereft  her  of  the  use  of  one  of  her 
hands  ;  unto  whom  I  declared  that  upon  occasion  of  her 
former  practices,  doubting  lest  she  w^ould  persist  therein  by 
corrupting  underhand  some  bad  members  of  this  state,  I 
iras  expressly  commanded  to  take  her  money  into  my 

♦  LJngard,  vl  189.   Labaaofl;  vl.  lift. 


Mary's  Last  Crime. 


357 


hands,  and  to  rest  answerable  for  it  when  it  should  ht 
required ;  advising  her  to  deliver  the  said  money  untc 
me  with  quietness.  After  many  denials  many  exclama- 
tions, and  many  bitter  word«  against  you  (Cecil),  (  I  say 
nothing  of  her  railing  against  myself)  with  flat  aflirmation 
that  her  majesty  might  have  her  body,  hut  her  heart  she 
never  should  have,  refusing  to  deliver  the  keys  of  her 
cabinet,  I  called  my  servant  and  sent  for  bars  to  break  open 
the  door.  Whereon  she  yielded,  and  causing  the  door  to 
be  opened,  I  found  in  the  coffers  five  rolls  of  canvas  con- 
taining five  thousand  French  crowns,  and  two  leather  bags, 
whereof  the  one  had  in  gold,  one  hundred  and  four  pounds 
two  shillings,  and  the  other  had  three  j^ounds  in  silver, 
which  bag  of  silver  was  left  with  her,  affirming  that  she  had 
no  more  money  in  the  house  and  was  indebted  to  her  ser- 
vants for  their  wages.  I  thank  God  with  all  my  heart,  cw 
for  a  singular  blessing  that  this  falleth  out  so  well."* 

Paulet  has  received  a  good  deal  of  praise  because  he 
refused  to  assassinate  Mary  in  private  when  urged  by  Eliza- 
beth to  do  so  ;  yet  although  he  would  not  do  that,  he  was 
not  above  the  meanness  of  breaking  open  all  her  letters 
and  communicating  them  to  Walsingham  and  Cecil. 

The  oppressed  and  persecuted  English  Catholics  whom 
Elizabeth  was  slaughtering  by  hundreds,  were  constantly 
plotting  against  her  and  organizing  feeble  conspiracies. 
One  of  these  conspiracies  was  at  length  made  useful  in  tht 


•  Robertecn,m 


858       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

destruction  of  the  Scottish  queen.  Nearly  every  one  ol 
them  set  forth  her  deliverance  as  one  of  their  objects ;  and 
whenever  a  respectable  head  was  found,  as  in  Norfolk's 
ea5»6  or  in  the  last  fatal  case  of  Babington,  she,  poor  soul, 
caught  at  the  hope  of  freedom,  and  did  all  she  could  to 
promote  their  efforts  for  her.  That,  however,  she  ever  for 
a  moment  approved  of  any  plot  against  Elizabeth's  per- 
son, there  is  not  the  slightest  evidence  adduced  ;  while 
every  circumstance  of  this  mournful  last  act  of  the  tragedy 
proves  conclusively  the  contrary. 

In  1584,  Francis  Throckmorton,  a  Cheshire  gentleman, 
was  executed  for  having  commanded  one  of  these  con- 
spiracies, and  his  case  furnished  the  reason  for  the  forma- 
tion of  an  association,  the  first  principle  of  which,  backed 
as  it  soon  was  by  an  act  of  parliament,  furnished  the 
weapons  for  the  cold-blooded  murder  of  Mary  Stuart. 

On  the  19th  of  October,  1584,  an  association  was 
formed,  upon  the  pretence  of  loyalty  towards  Elizabeth  ; 
really  to  pave  the  way  for  the  murder  of  the  Scottish 
queen.  The  members  were  Vound  by  the  most  solemn 
oaths  "to  defend  the  queen  (Elizabeth)  against  all  her 
enemies  foreign  and  domestic;  and  if  violence  should  be 
offered  tc  her  life,  in  order  to  favor  the  title  of  any  pre- 
tender to  the  crown,  they  not  only  engaged  never  to  allow 
or  acknowledge  the  person  or  persons  by  whom  or  far 
whom  (!)  such  a  detestable  act  should  be  committed,  but 
Tcwed  in  the  presence  of  tae  Eternal  God,  to  proeeouti 


Mary's  Last  Crime. 


359 


inch  person  or  persons  to  the  death,  and  to  pursue  them 
with  their  utmost  vengeance,  to  their  utter  overthrow  and 
extirpation.* 

Then  followed  the  act  of  parliament,  1585.  By  this, 
was  enacted  what  we,  in  these  days,  can  scarcely  credit  to 
be  possible,  so  abominable  in  its  injustice ;  so  fiercely 
bloody  and  cruel  in  its  indiscriminate  murderousness : 
"  That,  if  any  rebellion  should  be  excited  in  the  kingdom 
or  anything  attempted  to  the  hurt  of  her  majesty's  person, 
by  or  for  any  person  pretending  a  title  to  the  crown,  the 
qu»3eri  should  empower  twenty-four  persons,  by  a  commis- 
sion under  the  great  seai,  to  examine  into  and  pass  sen- 
tence upon  such  oflfences  ;  and  that,  after  judgment  given, 
a  proclamation  should  be  issued  declaring  the  persons 
wl^om  they  found  guilty  excluded  from  any  right  to  the 
cn»wn,  and  her  majesty's  subjects  might  lawfully  pursm 
any  one  of  them  to  their  death  ;  and  that  if  any  design 
against  the  queen's  life  took  effect,  the  persons  by  or  for 
whom  such  a  detestable  act  was  executed  and  their  issues^ 
being  in  any  wise  assenting  or  privy  to  the  same,  should  be 
disabled  forever  from  pretending  to  the  crown,  and  be  pur- 
sued to  death  in  the  like  manner."f 

How  perfectly  plain  is  all  this !  If  anybody  shall  ploi 
for  Mary  Stuart,  she  and  her  son  shall  be  punished  for  it. 

It  may  easily  be  imagined  how  this  act  filled  the  poor 
captive's  soul  with  terror.    No  matter  what  conspiracy 

•  Robertson,  200.  t  Bdl,  tt.  183 


860 


Mary,  Qdeen  of  Scots. 


was  set  on  foot— no  matter  that  she,  guarded  and  espied 
as  she  was,  might  never  even  have  heard  of  it — yet  she  wu 
to  be  the  victim  of  it,  if  it  pleased  the  conspirators  to  make 
use  of  her  name.  That  is,  if  you,  my  chivalric  friend, 
knock  a  fellow  down  for  insulting  a  lady,  that  lady  shall  be 
prosecuted  for  ass?.ult  and  battery.  Besides  this,  Mary  the 
Queen  has  no  trust  in  her  guardians.  They  have  taken 
from  her  the  haughty  noble  whose  rank  and  honor  were 
guards  at  least  against  assassination,  and  have  replaced 
him  by  the  fierce  fanatic  ruffian  Sir  Amyas  Paulet.  She 
is  penniless,  sick,  deserted,  broken-hearted,  a  prisoner, 
Usquequo,  Domine^  usquequo! 

Everything  is  now  prepared  for  the  judicial  assassination 
of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  Let  us  try  to  see  exactly  how  it 
was  brought  about.  Three  parties  are  necessary  for  the 
full  completion  of  the  design.  1st.  Morgan  and  Paget,  the 
agents  in  France  for  Mary  Stuart's  dower  as  Queen  Dow- 
ager of  that  realm,  her  faithful  friends  and  laborious  ser- 
vants, who  had  always  striven,  and  were  still  striving,  to 
effect  her  release.  2d.  Anthony  Babington  and  his  friends, 
Catholic  conspirators  against  Queen  Elizabeth.  3d.  Wal- 
singham.  Elizabeth's  secretary,  and  his  agents,  masters  of 
tb*'  position  and  sfeige-managers. 

Mary  had  always  kept  a  correspondence  with  Morgan 
and  Paget  as  to  the  best  means  of  effecting  her  liberation 
and  the  business  matters  to  which  they  were  attending  in 
France.    Much  of  this  correspondence  was  iu  cipher.  All 


Mary's  Last  Crime. 


361 


Ihefle  letters  were  carried  to  Walsinghara  and  deciphered 

for  him  by  one  Phillips,  a  person  adept  in  such  matters. 

Anthony  Babington,  an  amiable  and  accomplished  young 
gentleman,  of  large  fortune,  and  the  head  of  an  ancient 
Derbyshire  family,  had  been  partly  brought  up  by  the 
Archbishop  of  Glasgow,  Mary's  ambassador  in  France,  was 
passionately  attached  to  his  religion,  and  chivalrously 
devoted  to  the  unfortunate  captive  princess.  To  him  came 
Doctor  Gifford,  Gilbert  Giflford,  and  James  (?)  Hodgson, 
English  Catholic  priests,  who  had  organized  a  plot  against 
Elizabeth,  and  who  persuaded  him  to  take  the  leadership 
of  it.  He  consented,  and  associated  with  him  Messieurs 
Windsor,  Salisbury,  Tinley,  Tichborne,  Gage,  Travers, 
Barnewell,  Charnock,  Dun,  Jones,  and  Robert  Poolly.  They 
opened  a  correspondence  with  Morgan  and  Paget,  and 
through  them  with  the  Queen  of  Scots. 

Poolly  was  already  a  spy  of  Walsingham's,  and  that 
secretary  soon  purchased  Gilbert  GifFord,  who  sold  for 
English  guineas,  July  15,  1685,  his  religion,  his  honor,  hit 
comrades,  and  the  life  of  Mary. 

Now  on  the  caitiff  *8  name 
Be  everlasting  shame 
And  scorn  and  good  men^s  hate.   Amen,  amen  t 

Every  letter  was  carried  at  once  from  Ohartley,  where 

the  queen  now  was,  to  Walsin-gham.    If  in  cipher,  it  wae 

submitted  to  Phillips,  who  soon  translated  it. 

Next,  Naue  and  Curie,  Queen  Mary's  secret4ui€8>  were 

1« 


362       Maey,   Quekn  of  Scots. 

purchased,  and  they  did  as  they  were  ordered  by  Walsing 
ham.  That  worthy's  first  attempt  was  to  engage  Mary  in 
a  correspondence  with  the  conspirators.  They  succeeded, 
60  far  as  the  regaining  of  her  own  liberty  was  concerned, 
but  remained  ignorant  of  any  plans  against  the  person  of 
Elizabeth.    Walsingham's  plan  was  as  follows : 

A  brewer  in  Chartley,  who  is  mentioned  in  their  corres- 
pondence as  the  "  honest  man,"  and  who  carried  weekly  a 
load  of  his  nutritive  bererage  to  the  castle,  was  recom- 
mended, as  a  trustworthy  messenger,  by  Walsingham  to 
Gifford,  by  Gifford  to  Babington,  Paget,  and  Morgan,  and 
by  them  to  poor  trusting  Mary.  This  "honest  man" 
received  packets  from  both  parties,  and  delivered  them 
punctually  to  Sir  Amyas  Paulet,  who,  after  they  had  been 
deciphered  by  Phillips,  read  by  Walsingham,  and  care- 
fully copied,  forwarded  them  to  their  respective  addresses^ 
newly  sealed  with  counterfeited  seals.* 

Mary  wrote  two  letters  to  Babington,  the  second  of 
which  •(•  was  made  the  principal  testimony  against  her. 
There  is  not  one  word  of  hers  that  goes  to  show  a  know- 
ledge of  any  purpose  against  Elizabeth.  But  there  are 
interpolations  that  can  be  and  were  wrested  into  a  proof  of 
such  knowledge.  The  whole  letter,  with  the  interpola- 
tions and  the  exposure  of  the  fraud,  are  to  be  found  in 
prince  LabanoflfJ  and  in  my  Appendix  F.  I  do  not 
reproduce  it,  nor  touch  the  argument  here,  inasmuch  as  ] 

•  LabandU;  f  I.  SSI  f  Ibid.,  tL  888.  tXbld.,7l.»a 


Mart's  Last  Crime. 


363 


eoDsider  that  Mary  would  have  been  perfectly  justified  in 
adopting  any  means  in  seif-defence,  and  because  I  wish 
that  this  plot  had  succeeded. 

Instead  of  that,  however,  it  was  the  plot  of  Walsingham 
that  was  crowned  with  success.  So  soon  as  the  secretanr 
supposed  that  he  had  accumulated  sufficient  evidence  for 
his  purposes,  the  conspirators  were  arrested.  Babington 
and  thirteen  others  were  executed ;  the  first  seven,  among 
whom  were  that  unfortunate  gentleman,  Ballard,  and 
Savage,  were  hanged,  cut  down  before  they  were  dead^ 
embowelled,  aod  then  quartered.* 

As  for  Mary,  she  was  carried  about  from  house  to  house 
for  some  days,  until  all  her  closets,  cabinets,  trunks,  cotters, 
and  caskets  had  been  rified  of  money,  papers,  and  jewels. 
Then  she  was  taken  back  to  Chartley.  The  poor  thronged 
round  her  to  receive  her  usual  alms,  which  sacred  duty  her 
sorrows  had  never  caused  her  to  forget ;  but  on  this  occa- 
sion she  had  to  refuse  them.  She  burst  into  a  passion  of 
tears,  as  she  said,  "  Alas !  I  have  nothing  to  give  you. 
They  have  taken  all  from  me,  and  I  am  a  beggar  as  well 
as  you."  f 

When  she  entered  her  disordered  and  rifled  apartments, 
she  looked  round  her  with  horror  for  a  moment,  collected 
herself,  and  then,  turning  to  Paulet,  with  queenly  dignity, 
eaid — 

There  are  still  two  things  which  you,  sir,  cannot  take 

♦  Bell,  ii.  186.  t  Lingard,  vL  209. 


S64:       Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 

from  me:  the  royal  blood  which  gives  me  a  right  to  th€ 
succession,  and  my  attachment  to  the  faith  of  my 
&thei-8."  * 

Naue  and  Curie  were  arrested  oo  the  2d  of  September 
and  their  answers  on  examination  not  proving  satisfactory, 
they  were  threatened  with  the  Tower  and  the  torture 
unless  their  replies  were  more  accordant  with  Walsing- 
ham's  desires. 

September  25th,  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  is  carried  to  her 
last  earthly  prison-house,  the  Castle  of  Fotheringay,  there 
to  await  her  trial  and  its  result.f 

•  Llngard,  vi.  211. 

t  The  account  of  Babington^s  conspiracy  is  drawn  from  M.  de  Chateatmcaf  t 
contemporary  account ;  Labanoflf,  vi.  274 ;  Robertson,  260,  261 ;  Bel',  iL  181- 
IfT;  Lingard,  vL  199-210;  Chalmers,  30(m4:  Labanofif,  vl  W*.  «S2,  329,  844, 


Chapter  VIII 


The  Grand  Commission. 
1588. 

The  proceedings  which  were  to  be  adopted  towarda 
Mary  Stuart  now  occupied  Elizabeth  and  her  council. 
One  or  two  spoke  in  her  favor,  but  the  stronger  ones 
declared  that  her  death  was  indispensably  requisite  to  the 
establishment  of  the  new  religion^  The  Earl  of  Leicester 
wrote  from  Holland  earnestly  suggesting  the  sure  process 
of  poism^  and  sending  a  reverend  divine  with  the  message 
and  with  instructions  to  prove  its  Christian  lawfulness.* 
But  it  was  finally  determined  that  she  should  be  brought 
to  public  trial  according  to  the  act  of  parliament  quoted  at 
page  359.  The  necessary  evidence  was  of  course  to  be  pro- 
duced by  Walsingham,  who  now  had  the  secretaries  Curie 
and  Naue  prisoners  in  his  house.  Here  they  were  con- 
stantly beset  by  urgent  requests  to  betray  their  raistressj 


866 


Maby,  Queen  of  Soots. 


backed  by  threats  of  torture  until  they  were  at  length 
happily  brought  to  the  desired  disposition,  as  Cecil  thought, 
and  were  ready  "  to  yield  somewhat  to  confirm  their  mis- 
tress' crimes,  if  they  were  persuaded  that  themselves  might 
Bcape  and  the  blow  fall  upon  their  Mrs.  betwixt  her  head 
and  her  shoulders."* 

These  delicate  preliminary  measures  having  been  thut 
arranged,  there  remained  only  to  prepare  the  witnesses, 
appoint  the  court,  and  try  the  accused.  Walsingham  had 
copies  of  all  of  Queen  Mary's  letters  for  the  last  year  or 
two,  and  copies  of  letters  being  rather  pliable  material  in 
skillful  hands,  he  did  not  despair  of  bending  what  he  had 
into  some  shape  that  might  prove  mortal. 

As  for  the  witnesses  it  was  difficult  to  manage  them. 
They  were  a  pair  of  weak  pusillanimous  scribes  whose 
principal  characteristic  was  a  good  hand-writing.  For 
some  time  they  refused  to  say  anything  about  their  employ- 
ment while  with  their  royal  mistress,  but  on  being  threat- 
ened with  the  Towner  and  the  torture,  Naue  became  terrified 
and  wrote  to  Elizabeth  disclosing  all  that  he  knew,  "  upor 
his  salvation."  He  said  that  in  Babington's  letters  to  Mary, 
there  was  an  allusion  to  Elizabeth's  death,  but  that  Mary 
took  no  fiotice  of  it,  because  it  was  a  thing  which  she 
neither  desired  nor  intended.  Finally,  immediately  after 
the  execution  of  Babington  and  his  friends,  these  miseiable 
quill-drivers  were  brought  up  before  Bromley,  Cecil  and 

^  Ungard,  vi.  218. 


The  Grand  Commission. 


867 


Hatton,  and  bullied  into  some  sort  of  testimony  as  to 
Mary's  answer  to  Babington's  letter.*  They  were  not 
shown  the  letter,  nor  yet  a  copy  thereof,  but  simply  an 
abstract  of  the  principal  points  therein  contained,"  which 
abstract  they  were  ordered  to  testify,  fairly  exhibited 
Mary's  answer.  Whether  they  did  even  so  muchf  is 
unimportant  and  cannot  be  discovered  now.  These  were 
the  witnesses. 

The  grand  commission  was  issued  to  forty-six  peers,  privy 
counsellors  and  judges,  who  thus  formed  the  court.  Among 
these  judges  were  Cecil,  Paulet,  Walsingham,  Sadler 
and  other  personal  enemies  of  Mary. 

The  accused  was  kept  in  ignorance  of  all  proceedings 
until  October  12th,  when  thirty-six  of  the  commissioners 
having  arrived  at  Fotheringay,  Sir  Walter  Mild  may.  Sir 
Edward  Barker  and  Sir  Amyas  Paulet  presented  themselves 
before  her  and  sfave  her  a  letter  from  Elizabeth.  This 
epistle  was  full  of  accusations  and  reproaches,  and  ended 
with  a  command  to  prepare  herself  for  trial. f  Mary 
replied  that  "  she  found  it  very  strange  that  Elizabeth  should 
^rite  in  such  sort,  for  it  was  in  the  nature  of  a  command- 
ment that  she  should  answer  as  a  subject,  but  for  her  part 
she  was  born  a  queen  and  she  would  not  prejudice  her  rank 
or  state,  nor  the  blood  whereof  she  was  descended,  nor  her 
son  who  was  to  follow  her ;  nor  would  she  give  so  pre- 
judicial a  precedent  to  foreign  princes,  as  to  come  tc 

*  See  Appendix.  t  Lingard,  vl.  212.  X  RobwtsoQ,  2631 


868 


Mart,  Queen  of  Scots. 


answer  as  according  to  the  eflfect  of  those  letters ;  for  hei 
heart  was  great  and  could  not  yield  to  any  affliction.'* 
She  said  further,  "that  she  was  ignorant  of  the  laws  and 
statutes  of  the  realm,  was  destitute  of  counsel,  knew  not 
who  her  competent  peers  were;  that  her  papers  were  all 
taken  from  her,  and  that  nobody  dared  or  would  speak  in 
her  behalf.  Afcer  all  which,  she  protested  that  she  waa 
innocent,  and  had  not  procured  nor  encouraged  any  hurt  to 
her  majesty."* 

With  this  answer  the  trio  retired,  to  return  again  how- 
ever immediately  and  press  the  queen  to  yield.  Sh€ 
simply  reiterated  her  refusal,  adding  that  Elizabeth  had  said 
that  she,  Mary,  had  enjoyed  and  was  under  the  protection 
of  the  English  laws  and  was  therefore  subject  to  and  to  be 
tried  by  them.  But  to  this  she  replied  that  "  ever  since 
her  coming  she  had  been  restrained  as  prisoner,  by  reason 
whereof  she  had  enjoyed  no  protection  of  the  laws  of  the 
knd  nor  no  benefit  thereof."! 

Then  she  was  informed  that  if  she  refused  to  appear  and 
plead,  the  Commissiolers  would  simply  proceed  to  try  the 
cause  in  her  absence,  and  so  sondemn  her  by  default.  But 
Mary  said,  "She  was  no  subject,  and  would  die  rather  thaj 
make  herself  one."  She  added,  that  "  she  never  meant  avil 
to  the  queen,  and  was  not  to  be  proceeded  against,  for  she 
was  no  criminal :  furthermore,  that  if  she  were  to  act  as  ji 
lubject  now,  she  might  be  drawn  within  the  danger  of 

•  Labancff;  vii.  87.  t  Ibid,  vli.  4a 


The  Granj?  Commission. 


669 


man}  other  laws  and  statutes,  and  namely  for  matter  of 
relir/iony  Then,  with  the  sad  foreboding  natural  to  hef 
position,  she  told  them  that  she  thought  their  proceedings 
was  "  merely  formal,  for  that  she  was  already  condemned  by 
them  that  should  try  her,  and  bade  them  look  well  to  their 
consciences  with  regard  to  God,  and  to  their  honors  with 
regard  to  the  world."* 

In  the  night,  however,  her  loneliness  and  defenceless  con 
dition  tempered  her  high  spirit,  and  her  courage  somewhat 
yielded.  Besides  which.  Sir  Christopher  Hatton's  argu- 
ment that  her  reputation  was  at  stake,  induced  her 
womanly  nature  to  abate  somewhat  of  her  resolution.  In 
the  morning  came  another  boding  growl  from  the  she 
wolf.  "  Our  pleasure  is  that  you  make  answer  to  the  nobles 
and  peers  of  my  kingdom,  as  you  would  answer  to  myself 
if  I  were  present.  Therefore  T  orde^'^  charge^  and  command 
you  to  answer  to  them,  for  I  have  heard  of  your  (!)  arro- 
gance. But  act  candidly  and  you  may  meet  with  mmt 
favor.  Elizabeth."! 

This  last  line  turned  the  balance,  presenting  as  it  did 
•ome  little  hope;  and  Mary  Stuart  consented  to  appear 
before  the  English  Commission.  On  the  14th  of  October^ 
the  Court  was  opened  in  the  great  chamber  of  Fotheringay 
Castle.  A  throne  was  erected  to  represent  the  Majesty  of 
England,  and  facing  it,  at  the  lower  end  of  the  room,  was  i 
ehair  for  the  Queen  of  Scotland. 

•  lAbaaoff,  44  t  Uagard,  vi.  241. 


370 


Mary,   Queen  of  Scots. 


There  came  the  defenceless  woman  alone,  to  confront  the 
ablest  lawyers  of  England.  She  was  ignorant  of  all  their 
lorras  and  technicalities — nay,  even  of  their  laws ;  she  was 
nfused  the  assistance  of  any  counsel ;  she  had  been  nine- 
teen years  a  prisoner  under  close  espionage ;  her  health 
was  gone.  Yet  fearlessly  she  nerved  her  royal  heart  to 
confront  that  terrible  array,  and  alone  and  unaided  as  she 
was,  for  two  whole  days  she  baffled  them.  The  charge 
was  that  she  had  conspired  with  foreigners  to  procure — 1. 
The  invasion  of  the  realm.    2.  The  death  of  Elizabeth. 

The  prosecutors  told  her  they  had  her  letters  to  foreign- 
ers and  to  Babington.  She  asked  for  their  production, 
tnd  was  refused. 

They  told  her  that  Naue  and  Curie  had  testified  against 
her.  She  demanded  to  be  confronted  with  them,  and  was 
refused. 

Against  such  abominable  injustice,  Mary  of  course  pro- 
tested. She  acknowledged  that  she  had  corresponded  with 
various  persons  to  obtain  her  freedom,  but  earnestly  denied 
having  even  for  one  moment  wished  or  encouraged  injury 
to  Elizabeth. 

Never,  in  the  pomp  of  her  youthful  royalty,  did  she  stand 
before  the  splendid  chivalry  of  France,  or  amid  the  ancient 
nobles  of  her  own  kingdom,  with  such  stately  dignity,  with 
luch  distinguished  pride  of  innocence,  as  now,  in  hopelesa* 
Dess  and  hidden  pain,  she  confronted  the  ministers  of  her 
terrible  rival's  hati^ 


The  Grand  Commission. 


871 


"  I  have  often,"  she  said,  made  such  efforts  for  th€ 
recovery  of  my  liberty  as  were  natural  to  a  human  crea 
ture.  Convinced  by  the  sad  experience  of  so  many  years, 
that  it  was  in  vain  to  expect  it  from  the  justice  or  gene* 
ix)sity  of  the  Queen  of  England,  I  have  frequently  solicited 
foreign  princes,  and  called  upon  all  my  friends  to  employ 
all  their  interest  for  my  relief.  I  have  likewise  endeavored 
to  procure  for  the  English  Catholics  some  mitigation  of  the 
rigor  with  which  they  are  now  treated,  and  if  I  could  hope 
by  my  death  to  deliver  them  from  oppression,  am  willing 
to  die  for  th^ir  sake.  I  wish,  however,  to  imitate  the  ex- 
ample of  Esther-rather  than  that  of  Judith,  and  would  rather 
make  intercession  for  my  people,  than  shed  the  blood  of  the 
meanest  creature  in  order  to  save  them.  And,  worn  out  as 
I  now  am  with  cares  and  sufferings,  the  prospect  of  a  crown 
is  not  so  inviting  to  me  that  I  should  ruin  my  soul  in  order 
to  obtain  it.  I  am  no  stranger  to  the  feelings  of  humanity, 
nor  unacquainted  with  the  duties  of  religion,  and  I  abhor 
the  detestable  crime  of  assassination  as  equally  repugnant 
to  both.  And  if  ever  I  have  given  consent  by  my  words, 
or  even  by  my  thoughts,  to  any  attempt  against  the  life  of 
the  Queen  of  England,  far  from  declining  the  judgment  of 
men,  I  shall  not  even  pray  for  the  mercy  of  God.'^* 

But  of  what  avail  was  this  ?  She  had  spoken  solemn 
tittth  when  she  said  that  "  they  had  condemned  her  al- 
ready."   Chateauneuf  had  demanded  counsel  for  hsr  in  the 

•  Robertson,  26& 


372 


Mart,  Queen  of  Scots. 


name  of  the  French  King,  and  was  instantly  refused  by 
Elizabeth,  who  told  him  not  to  "  school  herP  And  so,  on 
the  third  day,  the  case  was  carried  to  the  Star  Chamber  at 
Westminster,  Mary,  however,  being  kept  in  her  chamber  at 
Fotheringay.  Then  Naue  aa<l  Curie  were  called  before  the 
Commissioners,  and  required  to  swear  to  the  truth  of  what 
Walsingham  said  was  their  confession. 

But  Naue  declared,  as  he  always  had  done,  that  the  prin- 
cipal heads  of  accusation,  by  which  only  could  a  sentence 
of  condemnation  be  pronounced,  were  wholly  and  absolutely 
false.  Walsingham  rose  fiercely  up,  and  charged  the 
Secretary  with  contradicting  his  former  testimony ;  but 
Naue  steadily  maintained  his  position,  and  solemnly  sum- 
moned the  Court  to  answer  before  God,  and  all  Christian 
kings  and  princes,  if,  on  such  false  charges,  they  should  con- 
demn a  queen  no  less  a  sovereign  than  their  own."* 

Naue  vindicated  himself  after  getting  out  of  Walsing- 
ham's  reach,  and  Curie  made  the  following  declaration  on 
his  death-bed :  "  That  upon  his  hope  of  salvation,  he  pro- 
tested his  fidelity  and  true  loyalty  ever,  to  the  Queen,  hia 
mistress,  both  living  and  dead,  against  the  calumnies  and 
imputations  put  in  print.  And  this  he  spoke  with  great 
asse  aeration,  protesting  his  innocence  even  at  the  last  gasp^ 
as  he  should  answer  it  before  the  tribunal  of  the  eternal 
fudge."t 

But  Mary  was  "  already  condemned." 


The  Grand  Commission 


878 


Accordingly,  on  the  25th  day  of  October,  1586,  the 
grand  commissioners  declared  the  absent  queen  guilty  of 
both  charges  and  pronounced  upon  her  the  sentence  of 
death.  This  was  signed  by  the  whole  forty-six,  although 
ten  of  them  had  not  been  present  at  Fotheringay ! 

A  few  days  later,  parliament  confirmed  the  sentence  and 
petitioned  Elizabeth  for  a  rapid  execution  of  it.  She,  with 
her  usual  hypocrisy,  pretended  unwillingness,  but  they  well 
knew  how  much  of  such  pretensions  to  believe.  The 
earnest  desire  of  her  whole  reign  had  been  to  destroy 
Mary,  and  now  that  the  gripe  of  her  talons  was  sure,  she 
would  play  for  awhile  with  the  victim  before  tearing  out  its 
palpitating  heart  and  slaking  the  burning  blood-thirst 
which  consumed  her. 

Her  worthy  parliament  was  quite  ready  to  pander  to  hei 
hypocriry,  and  found  it  necessary  to  urge  her  merciful  soul 
on  to  the  consummation  of  the  sacred  deed.  The  speaker 
of  the  house,  an  individual  of  the  name  of  Puckering^ 
entreated  her  to  remember  that  "  those  who  had  signed  the 
association  were  bound  by  their  oath  to  kill  the  Queen  of 
Scots.  If  they  should  do  it  without  license,  they  would 
ncur  the  indignation  of  her  majesty ;  if  they  did  not  do  it, 
&ey  wop.ld  be  perjured  and  incur  the  indignation  of  God  r 
Oh,  he  had  a  rare  and  delicate  conscience,  had  Puckering 
Ba^  ^0  has  anotlei  axument  left  if  the  first  should  fail: 
''Na  «>hly  the  life  lv\  the  silvation  of  Elizabeth  was  %t 


874 


Maky,  Queen  of  Scotb 


iiajce  She  would  offend  God  by  sparing  the  w?oke^ 
priucesa  whom  God  had  delivered  into  her  hands  to  be  put 
to  death."*    Good  Puckering !  pious  Puckering! 

Yet  not  so  pious  as  godly  Sir  James  Croft,  who  moveJ 
**  that  some  earnest  and  devout  prayer  to  Godj  to  inchna 
hif  majesty's  heart  to  grant  their  petition,  might  be  com- 
posed and  printed,  in  order  to  be  used  daily  in  the  House 
of  Commons  and  by  its  members  in  their  chambers  and 
lodgings.''^  jf 

And  when  to  this,  the  pariiament's  petition  added  that 
**  while  Mary  was  aiive  there  could  be  no  security  for  the 
queen's  person  nor  for  the  preservation  of  the  state  relU 
^ion^'^X  how  could  the  pious,  pitiful  Tudor  refuse  the  prayer 
of  her  loving  subjects  ?    She  did  not,  long. 

On  the  19th  of  November  Lord  Buckhurst  and  Beale, 
clerk  of  the  council,  announced  to  Mary  Stuart  that  she 
was  sentenced  to  death.  She  heard  it  with  her  usual 
calm,  sweet  dignity,  and  said  to  them,  "  After  so  many 
suffering's  death  comes  to  me  as  a  welcome  deliverer.  I 
am  proud  to  think  that  my  life  is  deemed  of  importance  to 
the  Catholic  religion,  and  as  a  martyr  for  it,  I  am  now 
willing  to  di©."§ 

The  soecial  and  resident  ambassadors  of  Fiance  inter- 
ceded earnestly  with  Elizabeth,  but  were  put  oft  with 

•  Linsrari,  vt  m—NoU,         t  Ibid. 

f  Rob«t60D  MB 


The  Gb4.nd  Commission. 


875 


^tsions  and  petty  artifices.  James  VI.  sent  the  Master  of 
Gray  to  plead  for  his  mother,  and  that  wretched  villain, 
while  he  openly  asked  for  a  remission  of  the  sentence 
hissed  in  Elizabeth's  willing  ear,  Remember  that  the  dead 
cannot  bite  /" 

So  a  few  more  insults  to  the  victim,  a  little  more  dally- 
ing on  the  part  of  Elizabeth,  and  this  most  infamous  mur- 
der shall  be  wrought.  Shortly  after  the  sentence  Paulet 
entered  Queen  Mary's  apartments  and  ordered  her  chair 
of  state  and  canopy  to  be  removed.  This  done,  he  put  on 
his  hat  and  sat  down.  He  next  ordered  her  billiard  table 
to  be  removed,  telling  her  roughly  that  she  had  no  need  oi 
worldly  amusements  and  had  better  prepare  herself  for 
death.  She  replied  that  she  had  never  played  upon  it,  since 
he  and  his  employers  had  kept  her  busy  in  other  matters. 
When  they  tore  down  the  royal  arms  of  Scotland  from 
the  wall,  she  had  the  place  filled  by  a  crucifix,  and  said 
that  was  far  better.  Then  she  went  diligently  to  work  to 
set  her  house  in  order,  that  so  she  might  depart  upon  the 
journey  from  which  she  would  not  return. 

Meantime,  Elizabeth,  after  vainly  attempting  to  procure 
her  assassination,  signs  the  death-warrant.  Still  she  endea- 
vors to  get  some  of  the  responsibility  off  her  shoulders ; 
but  she  finds  none  of  her  servants  willing  to  sh-are  it. 
When  she  hands  the  signed  paper  to  Davison,  one  of  hei 
secretaries,  she  accompanies  it  with  words  that  might 
mean  she  did  not  wish  him  to  use  it.    He  tries  to  get  an 


S76       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

sbftolute  direction  from  her  and  for  a  long  time  fail%.  At 
last  he  asks  plainly, 

"  Does  your  majesty  intend  to  proceed  with  the  exeeo* 
lion  or  not 

And  the  queen  howls  back  to  him — 

•YiaIbyGodT* 

•  LlDgard,  vl  m 


Chapter  IX 


Last  Words. 
1687. 

Mary  Stuart,  Queen  of  Scots,  is  now  condemned  tc 
death  Awaiting  either  the  fatal  warrant  from  the  hand 
of  her  "  dear  sister  and  cousin  "  or  the  secret  dagger  of 
some  member  of  the  "  Association,"  all  of  whom  are  em- 
powered to  slay  her.  Elizabeth  prefers  assassination.  See 
how  she  woos  Sir  Amyas  Paulet  with  dulcet,  honeyed  words 
to  sully  his  gentleman's  sword  with  the  blood  of  her  much- 
abused  captive  and  heiresB : 

*To  MY  LOVING  AllIAS: 

.  "  Amias,  my  most  faithful  and  careful  servant,  God 
reward  thee  triblefold  for  the  most  troublesome  charge 
so  well  discharged.  If  you  knew,  my  Amias,  how  kindly, 
besides  most  dutifully,  my  greatful  heart  accepts  and 
praiseth  your  spotless  endeavors  and  faithful  actions 
performed  iu  so  dangerous  and  rrafty  a  charge,  it  would 


878       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

kase  you^  travail  and  rejoice  your  heart ;  in  which  I  charge 
yon  to  carry  this  most  instant  thought,  that  I  canuot 
balance  in  any  weight  of  my  judgment  the  value  that  1 
prize  you  at,  and  suppose  no  treasure  can  countervail  such 
A  faith,  and  shall  condemn  me  in  that  fault  which  yet  I 
never  committed.  If  I  reward  not  such  desert,  yet  let  me 
lack  when  I  most  need  it  if  I  acknowledofe  not  such  a 
merit  non  omnibus  datumy  * 

What  mean  all  these  hollow  sugar-plums  ?  this  empty, 
honeyed  verbiage?  this  cold  and  snaky  involution  of  style! 
Let  Mr.  Secretary  Walsinghara  discover  the  kernel  and 
explain  to  Paulet  the  hidden  meaning : 

We  find,  by  a  speech  lately  made  by  her  Majesty,  that 
she  doth  note  in  vou  a  lack  of  that  care  and  zeal  for  her 
service  that  she  looketh  for  at  your  hands,  in  that  you  have 
not  in  all  this  time  (of  yourselves,  without  other  provoca- 
tion) found  out  some  way  to  shorten  the  life  of  the  Queen  of 
Scots,  considering  the  great  peril  she  is  subject  to  so  long 
as  the  said  queen  shall  live.  I  pray  you  let  both  this  and 
the  inclosed  be  committed  to  the  fire,  as  your  answer  shall 
be,  after  it  has  been  communicated  to  her  Majesty  for  her 
tatisfactionP 

But  Paulet,  in  reply,  bewails  the  unhappy  day  "in 
which  he  is  required,  by  direction  of  his  most  gracioui 
•overeign,  to  do  an  act  which  God  and  the  law  forliddetk 

•  Tytier.iuaaa 


Last  Words. 


379 


Bod  forbid  .  should  make  so  foul  a  shipwreck  of  ray  con« 
science,  or  leave  so  great  a  blot  to  my  poor  posterity,  as 
thed  blood  without  law  or  warrant."* 

Such  is  rough  Paulet's  answer  to  the  foul  proposals  of 
Kls  horrible  mistress.  She  herself  must  sign  the  death- 
warrant,  the  blood  that  spouts  from  Mary's  neck  must 
stain  those  jewelled  fingers  crimson  for  evermore. 

Let  us  go  back  to  the  victim,  as  she  sits  now  face  to  face 
with  the  King  of  Terrors.  Looking  beyond  him,  and 
through  the  mists  and  darkness  of  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death  to  the  breaking  dawn  of  the  eternal  day,  to  the 
golden  light  that  shall  envelop  her  martyr  head,  to  the 
repose  which  her  earth-wearied  heart  shall  enjoy,  even 
"  that  rest  which  remaineth  for  the  people  of  God." 

"  With  all  my  heart,  m^idam,  do  I  render  thanks  to  God 
that  He,  by  means  of  your  commands,  hath  pleased  to  put 
an  end  to  my  wearisome  pilgrimage  of  life.  I  do  not  wish 
it  prolonged,  having  already  had  too  much  time  to  learn 
its  bitterness.  Only,  I  implore  your  Majesty,  that  as  I  can 
expect  no  favor  from  the  zealous  ministers  who  hold  the 
first  places  in  the  English  state,  I  may  obtain  from  you 
only,  and  liot  from  others,  these  following  kindnesses : 

**  First.  Since  I  may  not  hope  for  a  burial  in  England 
icoording  to  the  Catholic  solemnities,  practised  by  tha 

•  TyUer,  H  822. 


880       Mart,  Queen  of  Scots. 

ancient  kings  your  ancestors  and  mine ;  and  since  in  Scot- 
land they  have  violated  and  defiled  the  ashes  of  my  fathers, 
grant  that  when  my  adversaries  shall  be  sullied  with  my 
innocent  blood,  ray  domestics  may  bear  my  body  to  some 
consecrated  earth  to  be  there  entombed ;  preferably  in 
France,  where  repose  the  bones  of  the  queen  my  most 
honored  mother:  so  that  this  poor  body,  which  never 
knew  repose  so  long  as  it  was  united  with  my  soul,  may 
find  it  at  last  when  separated 

"  Secondly.  Because  I  fear  the  tyranny  of  those  into 
whose  power  you  have  abandoned  me,  I  beseech  youi 
Majesty  that  I  may  not  be  executed  in  any  hidden  place, 
but  in  the  sight  of  my  domestics  and  others,  who  may  be 
witnesses  of  my  faith  and  of  my  obedience  to  the  tru« 
Church,  and  who  may  defend  my  last  hours  and  my  latest 
sighs  from  the  false  reports  that  my  adversaries  may  cir- 
culate. 

"  In  the  third  place,  I  request  that  my  domestics,  who 
have  served  me  so  faithfully  through  so  much  annoyance, 
may  retire  freely  whither  they  may  desire,  and  enjoy  the 
modest  benefices  that  my  poverty  has  left  them  in  my 
wUl. 

"  I  conjure  you,  madam,  by  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  by 
our  kindred,  by  the  memory  of  Henry  VII.  our  common 
father,  and  by  the  Title  of  Queen,  which  I  bear  still,  eveD 
unto  death,  not  to  refuse  me  stch  reasonable  demands,  and 


Last  Wcrdb. 


381 


to  assure  me  of  them  by  a  word  from  your  own  hand ; 
and  thereupon  I  will  die  as  I  have  lived, 

"  Your  affectionate  sister  and  prisoner, 

"Marie,  Reyne.*** 

To  this  letter  Elizabeth  gives  no  reply. 

On  the  23d  of  November,  1586,  the  Queen  of  Scoti 
makes  solemn  protestation  of  the  faith  for  which  she  ifl 
about  to  die : 

"Ibhsus  Maria. 

-I- 

"  Holy  Father :  Inasmuch  as  it  has  pleased  God  in  His 
divine  providence,  to  order  in  his  Church,  that  all  those 
who,  under  His  Son  Jesus  Christ  the  Crucified,  believe  in 
Him  and  are  baptized  in  the  name  of  the  Holy  Trinity, 
should  recognize  as  mother  one  universal  and  Catholic 
Church,  whose  commandments,  with  the  ten  of  the  law, 
must  be  obeyed  under  pain  of  damnation,  it  is  necessary 
that  all  who  aspire  to  eternal  life  should  have  their  eyes 
fixed  thereon ; 

"Therefore  I,  bom  of  kings  who,  like  their  Kindred, 
were  all  baptized  in  that  Church  even  as  I  was ;  I  who, 
though  unworthy,  was  called  even  from  the  breast  to 
the  royal  dignity,  anointed  and  consecrated  thereto  by 
her  authority  and  her  ministers,  who  was  nurtured  and 

*  LaVanofr,  tL  441 


882       Mary,  Queen  of  Scots. 

educated  under  her  aisles  and  in  her  bosom,  and  by  hei 
instructed  in  the  obedience  due  from  all  Christians  to  him 
whom  she,  guided  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  has  chosen  accord' 
ing  to  the  ancient  decrees  and  the  order  of  the  pi.imilive 
Church  to  the  Holy  Apostolic  See  (write  to  you.  I  recog- 
nize you)  as  our  earthly  head,  to  whom  Jesus  Christ,  by 
his  last  testament,  speaking  to  St.  Peter,  the  foundation  ol 
the  Church,  the  living  stone,  has  given  power  to  bind  and 
loose  poor  sinners  from  the  bonds  of  Satan,  absolving  us, 
by  yourself  or  your  commissioned  ministers,  from  all  crimes 
and  sins  by  us  committed  and  done,  if  we  repent  and,  as 
much  as  lieth  in  us,  make  satisfaction  for  them,  after  con- 
fessing according  to  the  command  of  the  Church. 

"  I  call  my  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  the  Most  Holy  Trinity, 
the  glorious  Virgin  Mary,  all  the  Angels  and  Archangels, 
St.  Peter  the  Pastor,  my  peculiar  intercessor  and  advocate ; 
St.  Paul,  Apostle  to  the  Gentiles ;  St.  Andrew,  and  all  the 
Holy  Apostles,  and  generally  all  the  Saints  in  Paradise,  to 
witness  that  I  have  always  lived  in  the  Faith  of  the  Univer- 
sal Church,  Catholic,  Apostolic,  and  Roman." 

After  this  profession  of  adherence  to  her  faith,  she  pro- 
ceeds to  tell  that  the  sentence  of  death  has  been  read  tc 
her;  how  her  prayer  for  a  priest  has  been  refused,  and  their 
offer  of  a  minister  declined  by  her.  She  repeats  their  de- 
claration that  the  new  religion  is  unsafe  while  sshe  lives,  and 
begs  his  Holiness  to  order  prayers  in  the  various  churches 
for  her  and  for  all  who  may  suffer  in  her  cause ;  entreat' 


Last  Wobds. 


383 


mg  him  also  to  befriend,  and  to  incite  the  Christian 
monarcha  to  befriend  her  servitors.  She  asks  for  his  gene- 
ral absolution,  proclaims  her  own  unworthiness,  and  declares 
that  only  the  blood  of  Christ,  interposed  between  her  and 
the  justice  of  God,  can  avail  to  save  her  soul.  She  ex- 
presses her  great  willingness  to  die  for  her  creed,  mourns 
over  the  defection  of  her  son,  and  concludes  by  craving  the 
papal  benediction,  and  by  another  earnest  appeal  in  behalf 
of  her  servants. 

To  Don  Bernard  de  Mendoza  she  makes  much  the  same 
complaints,  requests  and  protestations.  One  sentence  ia 
particularly  touching,  when  we  think  of  the  feeling  of  the 
writer,  a  woman,  and  condemned  to  death  at  the  moment : 
'*  I  hear  them  at  work  in  my  hall.  I  presume  that  they 
are  erecting  the  scaffold  whereupon  I  am  to  perform  the  last 
acene  of  this  tragedy." 

Her  letters  to  the  Due  de  Guise,  and  to  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Glasgow,  are  to  the  same  effect.  I  will,  however, 
close  here  her  correspondejice  w'.th  her  last  letter  to  her 
murderess,  Elizabeth,  as  noble  a  production  as  ever  came 
from  any  victim's  pen.  It  is  written  from  Fotheringay, 
December  19,  1586: 

**  Madam  :  Not  having  been  able  to  obtain  permission 
froin  those  to  whom  you  have,  as  it  were,  given  me  up,  to 
liy  before  you  what  I  had  at  heart,  as  well  for  my  acquittal 
from  any  malevolence,  cruelty,  or  hostility  agaiciit  thoae  ia 


384       Mart,  Queen  of  Soots, 

whom  I  am  joined  by  blood,  as  also  to  be  able  to  communi 
cate  charitably  with  you  matters  which  might  serve  to  youi 
safety  and  preservation,  as  well  as  the  maintenance  of  peacf 
in  this  island — a  matter  which  could  have  done  no  hurt, 
since  it  rested  with  you  to  have  taken  or  rejected  my  ad- 
vice— to  have  belisved  or  disbelieved  my  discourse,  as  you 
deemed  best.  I  am  resolved  for  the  future  to  strengthen 
myself  in  Jesus  Christ  alone,  who,  to  those  that  sincerely 
invoke  him  in  tribulation,  never  is  wanting  in  justice  anc 
consolation,  and  chiefly  at  the  time  when  deprived  of  all 
human  aid  they  are  under  His  holy  protection.  To  Him 
be  the  glory !  He  has  not  disappointed  my  expectation, 
having  given  me  courage  and  force  in  spe  contra  spem  (in 
hoping  against  hope)  to  endure  the  unjust  calumnies,  accu- 
sations, and  contumelies  of  those  who  have  no  such  juris- 
diction over  me,  which  a  constat?  t  resolution  to  suffer  death 
for  the  maintenance  and  siuthority  of  the  Catholic,  Apos- 
tolic and  Roman  Church. 

"Now  that  the  final  sentence  of  the  states  of  your  realm 
has  been  communicated  to  me  on  your  part — Lords  Buck- 
hurst  and  Beale  having  warned  mo  to  prepare  for  the  close 
of  my  long  and  troublous  pilgrimage — I  have  beggei  them 
to  thank  you  on  my  part  for  such  agreeable  news,  and  to 
request  you  to  grant  me  certain  points  for  the  discharge 
of  my  conscience,  in  which  Lord  Paulet  has  since  mformed 
me  that  you  were  willing  to  gratify  me,  having  restored  my 
ftimofier  and  the  money  thai  was  taken  from  me,  assuriig 


La   t  Words 


385 


me  that  the  rest  would  follow.  For  these  favors,  I  sttn 
anxious  to  return  you  thanks,  and  to  ask  you  a  further  and 
last  favor,  which,  for  several  reasons,  I  wish  to  make  to  you 
alone.  I  can  look  for  nothing  but  cruelty  from  the  Puri- 
tans, who  are  now  the  highest  in  authority,  and  the  fiercest 
against  me — God  knows  from  what  cause  !  I  accuse 
nobody,  but  from  my  heart  forgive  each,  as  I  hope  for  for- 
giveness myself,  especially  from  God.  And  since  I  know  that 
you,  more  than  any  other,  should  be  touched  to  the  heart  by 
the  honor  or  dishonor  of  your  blood,  and  of  a  queen  and  of 
the  daughter  of  a  king,  I  beg  of  you,  madam,  for  the  honor 
of  Jesup.  (to  whose  Name  all  powers  are  obedient)  to  grant 
that  after  my  enemies  have  satiated  their  savage  thirst  for 
my  innocent  blood,  you  will  allow  my  poor  desolate  ser- 
vants to  carry  my  body  to  be  interred  in  holy  ground,  with 
the  bodies  of  my  ancestors  in  France,  and  especially  of  the 
late  Queen  my  mother.  I  ask  this,  considering  that  in 
Scotland  the  bodies  of  my  royal  predecessors  have  been 
outraged,  and  the  churches  demolished  and  profaned,  and 
that  suflfering  in  this  country,  I  cannot  find  place  with  your 
royal  predecessors,  who^re  also  mine ;  and  what  is  more, 
according  to  our  religion,  we  deem  it  of  importance  to  be 
interred  in  consecrated  ground.  And  since  the]/  have  told 
me*  that  you  do  not  wish  in  any  way  to  force  my  con- 
science nor  my  religion,  and  that  you  have  even  granted 
me  a  priest,  I  hope  you  will  not  refuse  me  this  last  request 

•  Thm  worth  of  their  loformation  will  roco  b«  aoe^i 


886       Mart,   Queen  of  Scots. 

which  I  make  you,  permitting  at  least  free  sepulturo  to  my 
body  when  separated  from  the  soul,  since,  while  they  are 
united,  they  never  obtained  liberty  to  live  in  repose,  though 
they  procured  it  for  you  ;  for  which,  before  God,  I  do  not 
blame  you ;  but  may  God  enable  you  to  see  the  truth  of 
all  after  my  death. 

"  Ab  I  fear  the  secret  tyranny  of  those  to  whose  power 
you  have  abandoned  me,  I  entreat  you  not  to  allow  me  to 
be  put  to  death  without  your  knowledge ;  not  because  I  fear 
torture,  which  1  am  ready  to  endure,  but  on  account  of  the 
reports  that  might  be  circulated  unless  I  suffered  in  the  pres- 
sence  of  witnesses  who  are  beyond  suspicion.  Such  calum- 
nies, I  am  persuaded,  have  been  circulated  respecting  others 
in  a  different  station.  I  therefore  require  that  my  servants 
gnould  be  spectators  and  witnesses  of  my  end  in  the  faith 
of  my  Saviour,  and  in  obedience  to  his  Holy  Church  ;  and 
that  afterwards  all  of  them  may  bear  away  my  body,  as 
secretly  as  you  please,  without  being  deprived  of  the  be- 
quests I  have  left  them,  which  are  far  too  small  for  their 
faithful  services.  Be  pleased  to  let  me  send  back  a  jewel 
which  T  have  received  from  you,  with  my  last  farewell,  or 
Rooner  if  you  please.  I  beg  of  you,  besides,  to  permit  me 
to  send  a  jewel,  a  last  adieu  and  my  final  benediction,  to 
my  son,  of  which  he  was  deprived  when  you  informed  m« 
of  his  refusal  to  enter  into  a  treaty  in  which  I  should  be 
compreliended — by  the  ill-omened  counsel  of  whom  ? 
This  last  gomt  I  leave  to  your  f  a vomble  discretion  and  con- 


Last  Words. 


387 


science ;  as  to  the  others,  I  require  of  jou,  in  the  name  of 
J?su8  Christ,  and  in  respect  to  our  consanguiuity,  and  for 
the  favor  of  Henry  VII.,  your  grandsire  and  mine,  and  by 
the  honor  of  the  dignity  which  we  have  held,  and  by  our 
common  sex,  that  my  petition  should  be  granted. 

"  For  the  rest,  I  suppose  you  very  well  know  that  they 
hare  removed  my  canopy  of  state  in  your  name,  and  after- 
wards told  me  that  it  was  not  done  by  your  command,  but 
by  the  advice  of  some  of  your  council.  I  thank  God  that 
Buch  cruelty,  serving  only  as  a  vent  for  malice,  and  afflict- 
ing me  after  my  death  had  been  determined,  has  not 
come  from  you.  I  fear  that  other  matters  have  been  simi- 
larly managed,  since  they  would  not  permit  me  to  write  to 
you,  until  they  had,  so  far  as  was  in  their  power,  degraded 
me  from  my  royalty  and  nobility,  telling  me  that  I  was 
merely  a  dead  woman,  incapable  of  any  dignity.  I  should 
wish  that  all  my  papers  should  be  presented  to  you,  with- 
out alteration,  to  the  end  that  it  might  be  apparent  that 
is  not  the  mere  care  for  your  safety  which  prompts  my  per- 
secutors. If  you  will  grant  this,  my  last  request,  command 
that  I  may  see  your  reply,  for  otherwise  tliey  will  dispose 
of  me  as  they  please ;  and  I  wish  to  know  your  last  reply 
to  this  my  last  petition.  Finally,  I  pray  the  God  of  Mercy 
and  the  just  Judge,  to  illuminate  you  with  the  light  of  Hia 
Holy  Spirit,  and  to  give  me  grace  to  die  in  perfect  charity, 
as  I  am  disposed  to  do,  pardoning  all  these  who  have  caused 
or  participated  in  my  death.    Such  will  be  my  prayer  to 


888       Mart,  Queen  of  Scots. 

the  last.  I  think  myself  happy  in  departing  from  life 
fore  the  persecution  which  I  see  impending  over  this  island, 
if  God  be  not  more  truly  feared,  and  vanity  and  worldly 
policy  better  regulated  and  disposed.  Accuse  me  not  of 
presumption,  if,  in  quitting  this  world  and  preparing  for  a 
better,  I  remind  you  that  one  day  you  will  have  to  answer 
for  your  charge,  as  well  as  those  who  have  been  sent  before 
you  to  their  doom ;  and  I  desire  that  you  think  in  time, 
that  from  the  first  dawn  of  intelligence,  we  ought  to  esteem 
our  soul  above  all  temporal  things,  which  should  yield  to 
those  that  are  eternal. 

"From  Fotheringay,  this  19th  of  Dec,  1586. 

**  Your  sister  and  cousin,  and  wrongfully  your  prisoner, 

"  Mary,  the  Queen.*** 

It  is  said  that  this  letter  drew  tears  from  Elizabeth ;  bni, 
b8  that  as  it  may,  it  certainly  obtained  no  other  notion. 


*  Labanoii;  rt  ISSl 


« 


Chapter  X. 

The  Report  of  the  Executioners 

I  DESIRE  simply  to  say  that  in  this  chapter  I  will  not 
even  refer  to  any  authority  which  is  even  slightly  favorable 
to  the  cause  of  Mary  Stuart,  but  will  merely  give  an 
abstract  of  the  report  given  by  the  Earls  of  Shrewsbury  and 
Kent,  her  executioners,  to  the  privy  council  of  her  majesty 
Queen  Elizabeth.  It  will  be  found  in  the  History  of  Scot- 
land by  her  posthumous  enemy  Doctor  Robertson,  Haipers* 
edition  of  1855,  page  437. 

"  Upon  Tuesday,  February  7,  we,  the  earls,  came  hither, 
and  in  presence  of  her  people  read  to  her  the  proceedings  of 
her  majesty's  (Elizabeth)  commission  and  bade  her  prepare 
herself  against  the  next  morning.  And  to  the  effect  that 
no  Christian  duty  might  be  omitted^  that  might  be  for  her 
eomfort,  and  tend  to  the  salvation  of  her  body  and  soul  in 
the  world  to  come,  we  offered  unto  her,  if  it  would  please 
her,  to  confer  with  the  (Protestant)  Bishop  and  Dean  of 
Peterbrough,  which  Dean  we  had,  for  that  purpose, 


890 


MakTj  Queen  of  Scots. 


appointed  to  be  lodged  within  a  mile  of  that  place.  Tliere- 
npon  she  replied,  crossing  herself  in  the  Name  of  the  Father 
the  Son  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  she  was  ready  to  die  ic 
the  Catholic  Ronj.an  faith,  which  her  ancestors  had  professed 
and  fi*om  which  sh^e  would  not  be  removed.  And,  albeit 
we  used  many  persuasions  to  the  contrary,  yet  we  prevailed 
nothing ;  and,  therefore,  when  she  demanded  the  admittance 
of  a  priest,  we  utterly  denied  that  to  her. 

Touching  her  body  (see  her  last  letters)  we  knew  not  her 
majesty's  (Elizabeth's)  pleasure,  and  therefore  could  neither 
Ray  that  her  petition  was  denied  or  granted.  For  the  prac- 
tice of  Babington  she  utterly  denied  it.  Being  charged 
with  the  depositions  of  Naud  and  Curie  to  prove  it  against 
her,  she  replied  that  she  accused  none,  but  that  hereafter, 
when  she  shall  be  dead,  and  they  shall  remain  alive,  it 
shall  be  seen  how  indifferently  she  was  dealt  unthy  and  what 
measures  had  been  used  to  her. 

"  We  caused  all  the  soldiers  to  watch  all  night,  and 
ordered  that  only  four  of  her  servants  should  be  with  her 
lit  her  execution,  they  remaining  aloof  and  guarded  with 
certain  persons,  so  that  they  might  not  come  near  her. 

"On  Wednesday  morning,  when  she  was  ordered  to  come 
down  stairs,  she  obeyed,  but  stopped  upon  the  staircase 
to  say  to  Andrew  Melville,  in  our  hearing,  "  Melville,  thou 
hast  been  an  honest  servant  unto  me,  aid  I  pray  thee  to 
continue  so  towards  my  son.  I  have  not  impugned  his 
religion  nor  the  religion  of  others,  but  wish  him  welL  And 


Report  of  the  Executioners.  391 


as  I  forgive  all  that  have  offended  rae  in  Scotland,  so  I 
would  that  he  should  also  :  beseeching  God  that  hd  would 
send  him  His  Holy  Spirit  and  illun:iinate  him.  Melville'? 
answer  was  that  he  woukl  do  so,  and  at  that  instant  would 
beseech  God  for  His  Holy  Spirit  to  assist  him.  Then  she 
demanded  to  speak  with  her  priest,  which  was  denied  her^ 
the  rather  that  she  came  with  a  superstitious  pair  of  head* 
and  a  crucifix. 

"  After  she  came  to  the  scaffold,  the  Dean  of  Peter- 
borough, according  to  a  direction  that  he  had  received  the 
night  before^  would  have  made  a  godly  admonition  to 
her  to  repent  and  die  well  in  the  fear  of  God  and  in 
charity  to  the  world.  (She  refused  to  hear  hisadmomtion), 
and,  thereupon,  to  the  intent  that  it  might  appear  that  we 
and  the  whole  assembly  had  a  Christian  desire  that  she 
might  die  well,  a  godly  prayer,  conceived  by  the  dean,  was 
read  and  pronounced  by  us  all,  whereof  we  cmi  show  your 
lordships  a  copy, 

"  This  done,  she  pronounced  a  prayier  upon  her  knees  to 
this  effect : — To  beseech  God  to  send  her  His  Holy  Spirit, 
and  that  she  trusted  to  receive  her  salvation  in  His  blood, 
and  of  His  grace,  to  be  received  into  His  kingdom.  She 
besought  God  to  forgive  her  enemies  as  she  forgave  them : 
to  turn  His  wrath  from  this  land ;  to  bless  her  majesty 
(Elizabeth)  that  ^e  might  serve  Him.  Likewi&e  to  be 
merciful  to  her  son ;  to  hav«  oompassion  on  His  cliurch, 
and,  although,  she  was  net  worthy  t©  b«  heard,  yet  she  Lad 


892       Mary,  Queen  of  Soots, 

confidence  in  His  mercy,  and  prayed  all  the  saints  to 
pray  unto  the  Saviour  to  receive  her.  After  this,  turning 
to  her  servants  she  desired  them  to  pray  that  her  Saviour 
would  receive  her. 

"  Then  upon  petition  made  by  her  executioners  she  par- 
doned them^  and  said  she  was  glad  that  the  end  of  all  her 
sorrows  were  so  near.  Then  she  disliked  the  whining  and 
veeping  of  her  women,  saying  that  they  ought  to  thank  God 
for  her  resolution,  and  kissing  them,  willed  them  to  depart 
from  the  scaffold  ;  and  so,  farewell." 

"  And  so,  resolutely  kneeling  down,  laid  her  neck  upoi 
the  scaffold,  and  so  the  execution  proceeded." 

This  is  the  substance  of  the  report 


Chapter  XI . 

The  Eighth  of  February. 
1587. 

Ok  the  7th  of  February,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  168*/, 
the  Earls  of  Shrewsbury  and  Kent,  with  Andrews,  Sheriff 
of  Nottinghamshire,  arrived  at  the  Castle  of  Fotheringay 
and  demanded  access  to  the  presence  of  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots. 

That  lady  was  in  bed,  but  instantly  rose,  clad  herself 
and  ordered  the  gentlemen  to  be  admitted.  Lord  Shrews- 
bury entered  first,  uncovered,  and  at  his  command,  Mr.  Secre- 
tary Beale  read  the  death-warrant.  Mary  made  the  sign 
of  the  cross,  bade  them  welcome  and  thanked  them  for 
their  message.  She  told  them  how  glad  she  was  to  be 
released  from  her  many  bitter  sorrows,  and  laying  her  hand 
upon  the  Holy  Gospels,  called  their  inspirer  to  witness  that 
she  was  guiltless  of  any  attempt  upon  tiie  life  of  the  Queen 
of  England. 


394       Mary,   Quken  of  Scots. 

The  Earl  of  Kent  was  kind  enough  to  observe,  "  That 
book  is  a  Popish  Testament,  and  of  course  tLe  oath  is  of  no 
value." 

"  It  is  a  Catholic  Testament,"  said  the  ladj,  gently,  "  and 
on  that  account  /  prize  it  the  more ;  and  therefore,  accord 
iBg  to  your  own  reasoning,  you  ought  to  judge  niy  oath 
the  more  satisfactory." 

His  lordship  then  recommended  to  her  to  renounce  hei 
Papistical  superstitions ;  but  she  declined  to  do  so. 

Then  she  asked  for  her  chaplain  the  Abbe  Le  Preau, 
but  Kent  told  her  "  that  to  grant  such  a  request  would  be 
contrary  to  the  law  of  God,  and  would  endanger  the  safety 
both  of  the  bodies  and  souls  of  the  commissioners." 

After  some  conversation,  she  asked  when  she  was  to 
suflfer,  and  was  told,  "  At  eight  o'clock  to-morrow  morn- 
ing." 

When  the  gentlemen  retired,  her  attendants,  whom  she 
had  requested  to  be  present,  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears; 
but  she  bade  them  to  be  still.  "  This  is  not  a  time  to 
weep,"  she  said,  "  but  to  rejoice.  In  a  few  hours  you  will 
see  the  end  of  my  misfortunes.  My  enemies  may  now  say 
what  they  please;  but  the  Earl  of  Kent  has  betrayed  the 
secret,  that  my  religion  is  the  real  cause  of  my  death.  Be 
then  resigned,  and  leave  me  to  my  devotions." 

The  earl  had  said  to  her,  "  Madam,  your  death  will  b« 
the  life  of  our  religion,  as  your  life  would  be  its  death." 

Some  hours  she  passed  with  God  in  prayer,  and  then  at 


The  Eighth  of  Febkuary.  395 


•upper-time  came  out.  She  ate  lightly,  and  drank  a  glass 
of  wine  to  the  health  of  her  servitors,  who  threw  them- 
selves upon  their  knees  and  pledged  her  back,  while  the 
great  irrepressible  tears  burst  from  their  eyes  and  dropped 
in  the  crimson  wine.  Then  she  humbly  begged  their  for- 
giveness if  she  had  ever  spoken  or  acted  unkindly,  and 
pardoned  them  for  any  possible  shortcoming  of  theirs. 
Then  she  wrote  to  Henry  of  France  and  to  the  Duke  of 
Guise,  begging  them  to  be  kind  to  these  faithful,  loving 
hearts,  who  clung  to  her  in  this  last  extremity;  and  to 
Le  Prdau,  her  chaplain,  to  moan  that  she  was  not  allowed 
to  see  him  in  this  awful  hour,  to  make  protestation  of  her 
firmness  in  the  faith,  to  tell  him  how  much  she  suffered 
because  he  could  not  be  nigh  her  to  give  her  the  last 
sacraments  of  her  religion,  and  the  last  consolations  that 
the  ministers  of  God's  Gospel  of  pity  are  commissioned  to 
give  to  the  dying  sinner,  who  seeks  him  with  such  humble 
love  and  trust  as  Mary  Stuart  did. 

"  Oh,  father,"  she  pleads,  "  pray  with  me  and  watch  with 
tne  this  night,  for  the  satisfaction  of  my  sins,  and  send  me 
your  absolution.  I  will  try  to  see  you  in  their  presence, 
and,  if  I  be  allowed,  will  demand  your  benediction  on  my 
knees.  Tell  me  the  best  prayers  for  to-night  and  to-morrow, 
for  my  time  on  earth  is  short."  * 

Then  through  the  long  night,  with  the  sound  of  the 
hammer  on  her  scaffold  ringing  from  the  next  room,  she 

^  Labanofi;  tL 


896       Mabt,  Queen  of  Sootb. 

knelt  before  the  agonized  figure  of  her  dear  crucified 
Redeemer.  She  read  the  divine  history  of  his  sacred 
passion  ;  she  read  a  sermon  on  the  subject  of  the  penitent 
thief;  she  drew  from  the  bleeding  lips  of  the  five  wounds 
of  Jesus  the  blood  of  remission  and  the  waters  of  consola- 
tion; and  her  saintly  soul  grew  strong  within  her,  and 
leaping,  with  the  renewed  strength  of  God's  pardon,  up 
from  the  sorrowful  earth,  found  rest  and  refreshment 
already  on  the  bosom  of  that  dear  Lord  who  died  for 
her. 

At  four  in  the  morning  she  lay  down  upon  her  bed,  but 
not  to  sleep.    Her  attendants,  looking  on  her  steadfastly, 
saw,  through  the  mist  of  their  tears,  that  her  lips  were  , 
moving  in  incessant  prayer. 

Oh,  did  through  those  moments  of  repose,  did  the  smile  of 
her  mother  reappear  ?  did  her  glad,  sweet  youth  in  loving 
France  come  back?  did  she  see  the  sunny  skies  or  the 
purple  bloom  of  the  vineyards?  was  the  pomp  of  her 
young  royalty  visible?  was  the  shadow  of  her  yearning 
human  love  between  her  heart  and  heaven  ?  I  fancy  not ; 
I  think  that  she  but  heard  the  choirs  on  high,  saw  but  the 
crown  eternal,  but  the  unfading  palm-branch,  but  the  blue 
rushing  of  the  stream  of  life  that  floweth  from  the  throne 
of  God  and  of  the  Lamb. 

At  day- break  she  arose,  called  her  small  household  round 
her,  and  once  more  bade  them  farewell :  read  to  them  her 
last  will:  gave  them  her  money  and  apparel,  kissed  the  wild 


The  Eighth  of  February.  897 


•obbing  women,  and  gave  her  hand  to  the  strong  men,  wh<j 
bowed  down  over  it  and  wept  bitterly.  Then  she  went  to 
her  oratory,  and  they  knelt,  crying,  behind  her. 

There  Kent,  and  Shrewsbury,  and  Sheriff  Andrews,  found 
her.  Thence  she  arose,  and  taking  the  crucifix  from  the 
altar  in  her  right  hand,  and  her  prayer-book  in  her  left,  she 
followed  them.  Her  servants  forbidden  to  follow  her,  knelt 
for  her  benediction.  She  gave  it  and  passed  on.  Then 
the  door  closed  and  the  wild  wail  of  their  loving  agony 
arose  and  shook  the  hall. 

Besides  what  the  Commissioners  reported,  she  said  to 
Melville :  "  Pray  for  your  mistress  and  your  queen  ?"  She 
begged  that  her  women  might  attend  her  to  disrobe  her, 
and  the  Earl  of  Kent  refused  her. 

"My  lord,"  she  said,  "your  mistress,  being  a  maiden 
queen,  will  vouchsafe,  in  regard  to  womanhood,  that  I 
have  some  of  my  own  women  about  me  at  my  death." 

Kent  gave  no  answer,  and  she  said  : 

"  You  might,  I  think,  grant  me  a  far  greater  courtesy 
were  I  a  woman  of  lesser  calling  than  the  Queen  of 
Scots." 

No  answer  still.    And  then — 

"  My  lords,  I  am  a  cousin  of  your  queen,  a  descendant  of 
the  blood  royal  of  Henry  the  Seventh ;  a  married  Queen 
of  France,  and  the  anointed  Queen  of  Scotland." 

Then  they  allowed  Jane  Kennedy  and  Mistress  Curie  t4i 
irait  on  her. 


898 


Mary,   Qup:en  of  Scots. 


She  wore  her  richest  royal  robes  as  she  walked  to  th€ 
Bcaflfold,  and  approached  it  with  the  graceful  majesty  that 
ever  distinguished  her.  Then  Dr.  Fletcher,  Dean  of  Peter- 
borough, began  to  preach,  exhorting  her  to  forsake  that 
creed  "  in  the  which  continuing  she  must  be  damned." 
This  he  repeated,  with  the  delicacy  and  delight  in  damning 
their  fellow-beings  which  characterize  such  persons.  Mary 
begged  him  not  to  trouble  himself  or  her.  On  his  persist- 
ing, she  turned  away  from  him.  He  walked  round  the 
scaffold,  confronted  her,  and  began  again.  Then  the  Earl 
of  Shrewsbury  commanded  him  to  stop  preaching  and 
begin  to  pray ;  a  command  which  the  worthy  divine  in- 
stantly obeyed.  But,  meantime,  Mary  was  repeating  in 
Latin  the  Psalms  for  the  dying.  Then  she  knelt  down  and 
prayed  for  her  son  and  for  Elizabeth ;  for  Scotland,  her 
enemies,  and  herself;  and  holding  up  the  image  of  her 
suffering  Saviour,  she  cried  out :  "  As  Thy  arms,  0  my  God, 
were  stretched  out  upon  the  Cross,  so  receive  me  into  the 
embrace  of  their  mercy,  and  forgive  me  all  my  sins." 

"  Madam,"  cried  courteous  Kent,  "  you  had  better 
leave  such  Popish  trumperies  and  bear  Him  in  your 
heart." 

And  Mary  answered  :  Were  He  not  already  in  my  heart. 
His  image  would  not  be  in  my  hands." 

Then  they  bound  a  gold-edged  handkerchief  over  hei 
eyes,  and  she  saying,  "  Oh,  Lord !  into  Thy  hands  I  com- 
mand my  spirit,"  knelt  down. 


The  EiQHiH  of  February.  399 


At  the  first  blow,  the  executioner  split  the  lower  part  of 
tier  skull ;  at  the  second,  he  cut  deeply  into  her  neck ;  at 
the  third,  he  severed  her  head  from  her  body  and  holding 
i  up  by  the  long  grey  hair,  he  said  : 

"  God  save  Queen  Elizabeth  !" 

The  people  sobbed  and  wept. 

"So  perish  all  her  enemies,"  said  the  Dean  of  Peter* 
borough. 

And  the  people  sobbed  and  wept. 

"  So  perish  ail  the  enemies  of  the  Gospel,"  cried  the  Earl 
of  Kent. 

And  the  people  sobbed  and  wept;  but  no  man  said 
"AmenP'* 


Her  body  was  embalmed,  and  buried  in  Peterborough 
Cathedral.  Her  son  removed  it  to  Westminster,  where  it 
ileeps  now. 

•  Robertson,  270-273;  Llngard,  vi.  225-231;  Labanoff,  vi.  4S3,  491-497;  Bell, 
197-211;  Chalmers,  I  819-S32;  Tytler,  ii.  341-853  ;  Abbott,  275-288. 


i 


APPENDIX* 


Sas  pages  83,  148,  159,  163,  187,  190. 

Gxtracte  rrom  George  Buchannan's  Epithalamium  on  tiM 
marriage  of  Francis  and  Mary.  First  addressing  Francii 
he  says : 

"  If  matchless  beauty  your  nice  fancy  move, 
Behold  an  object  worthy  of  your  love ; 
How  loftily  her  stately  front  doth  rise, 
What  gentle  lightning  flashes  from  her  eyes. 
What  awful  majesty  her  carriage  bears, 
Maturely  grave  even  in  her  tender  years. 

"Thus  outwardly  adorned,  her  sacred  mind 
In  purest  qualities  comes  not  behind ; 
Her  nature  has  the  seeds  of  virtue  sown, 
By  moral  precepts  to  perfection  grown : 
Her  wisdom  doth  all  vicious  weeds  control, 
Such  power  has  right  instruction  on  the  souL 

Are  you  ambitious  of  an  ancient  line 

Where  heralds  makes  the  pompous  branches  shine  t 


Appendix 


She  can  a  hundred  monarchs  reckon  o  er, 
Who  in  unbroken  race  the  Scotian  sceptre  bore. 
**  Hymen  is  come,  with  him  the  happy  day, 
So  long  expected,  chases  night  away  ; 
YouVe  got,  most  noble  Dauphin,  your  desire, 
What  more  could  heaven  bestow  or  man  require  I 
«  »  *  *  • 

Indulgently  the  favoring  powers  above 
Gave  you  at  home  an  object  of  your  love  ; 
That  passion  which  with  infancy  began, 
Took  firmer  root  as  von  advanced  to  man. 
VoTi  by  no  proxy,  as  most  monarchs,  wooed| 

feared  deceitful  envoys  should  delude. 
H-yoT  o^n  fond  eyes  the  peerless  nymph  surveji^^ 
A  constant  witness  what  she  did  or  said, 
Your  passion  sprung  not  from  her  wealth  or  state. 
But  from  a  virtue  than  her  sex  tnore  great; 
From  piercing  wit  in  her  which  early  shined, 
And  bashful  modesty  with  sceptres  joined, 
Features  divine,  no  coldly  pictured  grace, 
But  life-Hke  conjuring  beauty  in  the  face." 

And  then  to  the  reofal  bride : 

"  But  let  not  fond  regrets  disturb  your  mind. 
Your  country  and  your  mother  left  behind ! 
This  is  your  country  too ;  what  wealth  of  friendl* 
What  kindred  on  your  nuptial  pomp  attends  1 
All  are  alike  to  you  where'er  you  tread, 
The  mighty  living  and  the  mighty  dead ; 


Affendix. 


403 


And  one  awaits  you,  dear  beyond  the  rest, 
Smiles  on  his  lips  and  rapture  in  his  breast ; 
The  eldest,  gentlest  of  the  royal  line, 
Linked  in  fraternal  fellowship  with  thine , 
But  shortly  he  will  be  to  you  above 
A  brother  or  a  mother's  holy  love. 

*^  Grant  me  ye  destinies  to  live  so  long, 
Till  France  and  Scotland's  union  be  my  song ; 
An  union  which  way  time  and  death  defy, 
And  with  the  stars  have  co-eternity.*' 


And  this  poem  is  by  the  author  of  the  infamous 


404 


ApPX  VDIZ 


THE  WAKEMANITBt* 

BsdS>il  ^AXKMAN,  who  gave  her  name  to  this  sect  of  fanatics, 

was  of  Connecticut ;  a  poor,  uneducated,  but  ambitious  and  shrewd 
woman.  Brought  by  poverty  to  a  near  relationship  with  the  streets, 
which  she  trod  in  daily  pilgrimage  in  search  of  food  and  raiment, 
she  conceived  the  idea  of  self-aggrandizement,  to  result  from  the 
fallacies  of  others  less  strongly-minded,  but  equally  as  ignorant  as 
herself.  Assuming  the  garb  of  religion,  she  sought  the  privilege 
of  praying  with  the  sick.  This  in  some  instances  accorded  her,  she 
took  the  advantage  of  it;  in  her  incapacity  to  convict,  she  con- 
fused the  minds  of  the  invalids  who  listened  to  her.  Enchantment 
and  the  virtues  of  hemlock  in  the  art  of  saving,  afforded  her 
abundant  themes,  and  by  long  suffering  she  not  only  convinced 
herself  of  the  truth  of  what  she  preached,  but  obtained  a  few  con- 
verts. A  man  named  Sly,  a  few  relatives  and  somewhere  about  a 
dozen  outsiders,  meeting  in  solemn  conclave,  after  prayer  and 
the  reading  of  the  Scriptures,  actually  certified  that  the  Angel  oi 
God  was  seen  to  descend  on  her,  and  they  at  once  dubbed  her  a 
"prophetess."  We  next  find  her  preaching  to  the  faithful  few, 
her  discourses  being  invariably  based  upon  the  one  text  from  the 
Lith  verse  of  the  2d  chapter  of  Hebrews. 
Time  passed  on,  and  proselytes  flocked  in.   Thus  establisbedi 


Appekdix. 


m 


ibe  pnrgned  her  conrse  of  money-making,  drawing  upon  the  pock- 
ets of  her  fanatical  followers,  until  she  capped  the  climax  by  accus- 
ing one  Amos  Hunt  of  bewitching  her.  Thus  she  collected  five 
hundred  dollars.  So  far  had  she  now  possessed  herself  of  the 
minds  of  her  adherents,  that  at  her  will  means  were  taken  to  crush 
the  evil  spirit,  said  to  be  this  Amos  Hunt,  whose  surviving  was  an 
hindrance  to  her  schemes.  Justus  Williams,  too,  had  come  under 
her  wrath,  and  he  became  the  first  victim  of  their  fanatical  zeal. 
The  whipping  with  peeled  witch-willow  sticks,  the  killing  by  cut- 
ting the  throat  we  pass  over,  remarking  only  on  the  supposed 
power  of  the  Prophetess  exemplified  by  stabbing  the  form  of  the 
cross  on  the  body  of  deceased.  Charles  Sandford,  another  of  this 
precious  crew,  followed  with  his  deeds,  and  as  the  blood  flowed 
from  the  wounds  he  inflicted  on  his  two  victims,  Messrs.  TJmderfield 
and  Sperry,  he  stood  over  their  corpses  and  gloated  in  the  cry  ol 
"  blood,  blood,  how  bright  it  seems,  and  how  easy  it  flows.  Who 
would  not  have  blood  for  the  redemption  of  man  ?" 

The  prayers  of  these  fanatics,  offered  up  in  regard  to  Amoa 
Hunt,  shows  the  animus  that  promoted  them.  It  reiterated  the 
charges  of  anti-Christian  possession,  and  prayed  God  to  relieve  the 
world  by  putting  a  curse  on  this  man.  "  When  he  dies,"  said  the 
prophetess,  "  the  world  will  be  redeemed,  and  I  shall  lead  my  fol- 
lowers to  the  glory  of  the  future." 

This  is  a  noticeable  case  of  the  results  following  this  class  ol 
disease.  It  presents  more  features  of  the  brutal  insensibility 
caused  by  misplaced  zeal,  than  can  be  found  in  recent  relations  of 
life. 

One  chief  idea  in  this  creed  was,  the  necessity  of  mut* 
dering  somebody  for  the  advancement  of  religion. 


A  PPSIf  DIX 


{O.y-^ee  page  101. 

Db  SiiTON,  le  6  Janvier^  1561-0. 

firlcHT  excellent,  right  heich,  and  micbtie  Princesse,  owr  dearest 
sister  and  cousine,  we  grete  yow  wele.  Quharas,  by  your  letters 
of  the  23th  of  november,  we  understand  that,  for  owr  answer 
gevin  to  sir  Peter  Mawtas,  as  he  has  reported  it,  ye  se  na  cans  to 
be  thairin  sa  wele  satisfeit  as  ye  luikit  for,  we  can  nocht  wele 
imagyn  quhat  lack  culd  be  fund  thairin :  far  as  our  meanyng  in  the 
self  is,  and  hes  ben  sincere,  just  and  upright,  sa  in  the  uttering  of 
owr  mynd  to  him,  we  sa  temperat  owr  answer,  as  we  thocht  mycht 
wele  stand  with  zowr  contentment,  and  quietnes  of  ws  baith :  and 
to  that  end  wissit  that  the  treaty  quhilk  ze  require  to  be  ratefyit, 
might  be  revewed  by  some  commissioners  suflSciently  authorizat 
on  baith  parties ;  quharanto  ze  have  in  zour  letter  apponit  sic  ane 
just  and  necessarie  consideratioun,  that  the  warld  sail  nocht,  by 
cure  dealing,  be  oppin  assemblee  of  ambassadours,  take  occasioun 
to  judge  that  thamytie  is  nocht  sound,  hot  in  some  poyntts  shakin 
or  crasit.  As  we  nocht  onlie  do  wele  allow,  bot  alsua  takis  the 
same  for  a  plane  declaratioun  of  zour  gude  mynd  and  ane  infalli- 
ble takin  of  zour  naturall  gude  luifment  towert  ws.  And  thairfore 
quhair  fe  think  it  bettir  that  we  suld  communicate  athir  prevelie 
to  zour  servand,  Thomas  Randolphe,  or  rather  be  oure  own  letters 
to  zoTi,  quhat  be  the  very  just  causep  that  move  us  thus  to  etfiy  Id 


Appendix. 


407 


the  ratificatioun :  we  do  willinglie  embrace  that  same  rathei ,  and 
pr©«entlie  meaiie  so  plaine  to  utter  oure  mynd  'into  you,  as  ze  sail 
wele  persave  the  memory  of  all  former  strange  accidentis  is  clene 
extinguissit  upoun  oure  part,  and  that  now,  without  any  reserva- 
tioun  we  deale  franchlie  with  zou,  in  sic  sort  as  is  convenient  for 
tua  sisters,  professing  sic  firm  amitie  to  treate  togidder.  We  lei* 
at  this  time  to  tweche  in  quhat  time  that  the  treaty  wus  past,  be 
quhais  commandment,  quhat  ministeris,  how  thay  war  authorizat ; 
or  particularlie  to  examyn  the  sufficiency  of  thair  comissioun; 
quhilkies  heides  are  not  so  slender,  bot  the  leist  of  tham  is  worthy 
of  sum  consideratioun :  onlie  will  we  presentlie  tweche  that  hede, 
quhilk  is  mete  for  us  to  provide,  and  that  quhilk  on  zour  part  is 
nocht  inconvenient,  but  sic  as  in  honour,  justice  and  reason  ze  may 
wele  allow.  How  prejudiciall  that  treatie  is  to  sic  title  and  interefl 
as  be  birth  and  naturall  discente  of  zour  awin  hnage  may  fall  to  us, 
be  veray  inspectioun  of  the  treaty  itself  ze  may  easeUe  persave ; 
and  how  slenderlie  a  ma,tter  of  sa  greit  consequence  is  wrappit  up 
in  obscure  termis.  We  know  how  neir  we  ar  discendid  of  the 
blude  of  Ingland,  and  quhat  devisis  has  been  attempit  to  make  us, 
as  it  wer,  a  strangear  from  it.  We  traist,  being  so  neir  zour  cousine, 
ze  wald  be  laith  we  sould  ressave  so  manifest  ane  injurie,  as 
awnterlie  to  be  debarrit  from  that  title,  quhilk  in  possibilitie  may 
fall  unto  us.  We  wil  deale  francMie  with  zou,  and  wiss  that  ze 
deale  freudlie  with  us;  we  will  have  at  this  presentt  na  juge  of  the 
equitie  of  oure  demand,  but  zour  self.  Gif  we  had  sic  a  mater  to 
creat  with  any  uther  prince,  thair  is  na  persoun  quhais  avise  we 
wald  rather  follow :  sa  greit  a  count  do  we  make  of  zour  amytie 
towert  us,  and  sic  a  opinion  have  we  conceyvit  of  zour  uprightness 
In  judgment,  that  althot  the  mater  partlie  tweche  zour  self,  we  dar 
aventure  to  put  mekle  in  zour  handes.  We  will  require  nathing  of 
you,  bot  that  quhilk  we  could  wele  fynd  in  oure  har^  to  grant  unto 
you,  gif  the  like  caise  wer  ours. 

For  that  treatie,  insafer  as  conceernis  ns,  we  can  be  content  to 
do  all  that  of  reasoun  may  be  requirit  of  us,  or  rather  to  eutre 
into  a  new  of      substance,  as  may  stand  without  oure  awin  pre* 


408 


Appendix. 


(udice,  in  favouris  of  you  and  the  lawchfuU  of  zour  body ;  pro- 
vidit  alvayes  that  oure  interest  to  that  crown,  failzeing  of  zour  sell 
and  the  lawchfuU  ishe  of  zour  body,  may  thairwithall  be  put  in 
gude  suretie,  with  al  circumstances  necessar  and  in  forme  requisit  • 
quhilk  mater  being  anys  in  this  sort  knyt  up  betwix  us,  and  be  the 
meanes  thairof  the  haill  sede  of  disscntioun  taken  up  by  the  rute, 
•re  doubt  nocht  bot  herefter  oure  behavour  togidder  in  all  respectii 
Ball  represent  to  the  warld  als  greit  and  firm  amytie,  betwix  quhat- 
Bamever  cupple  of  dearest  frendis  mentionat  in  thame, — lat  be  to 
surpass  th«  present  examplis  of  oure  awin  age — to  the  greit  con- 
fort  of  oure  subjects,  and  perpetuall  quietness  of  baith  the  realmes 
quhilkies  we  ar  bund  in  the  sicht  of  God  be  all  gude  meanys  to 
procure. 

We  leif  to  zour  awn  consideratioun  quhat  reasonis  we  mycht 
allege  to  confirme  the  equitie  of  our  demand,  and  quhat  is  proba- 
ble that  utheris  wald  alledge,  gif  they  wer  in  oure  place,  quhilkies 
we  pas  over  with  silence.  Ze  see  quhat  abundance  of  luif  nature 
hes  wrocht  in  oure  barte  towartis  you,  quhairby  we  ar  movit  rather 
to  admit  sumthing  that  uthers  perchance  wald  esteme  to  be  an 
inconvenient,  then  leif  ony  rute  of  breache ;  and  to  set  aside  the 
maner  of  treating  accustomat  amanges  utheris  princes,  leving  all 
ceremonys,  to  propone  and  utter  the  boddum  of  oure  mynd 
nakitlie  without  ony  circumstances ;  quhilk  fassioun  of  deling  ii 
our  opinioun  deservis  to  be  answerit  in  the  like  franknes.  Gif  God 
will  graunt  ane  gude  occasioun  thai  we  may  mete  togidder,  quhilk 
we  wyss  may  be  sone,  we  traist  ze  sail  mair  cherelie  persave  the 
mnceritie  of  oure  gude  meanying  than  we  can  express  be  writing. 
In  the  meane  season  we  desire  zou  hartelye,  as  ze  terme  us  zour 
gude  sister,  sa  ymagin  with  zour  self,  that  we  ar  sa  in  effect ;  and 
that  ze  may  ?uk9  for  ua  les  assurit  and  firme  amytie  at  our  handes, 
than  we  war  zour  naturall  sister  in  deid  ;  quhairof  ze  sail  fra  tyme 
to  tyme  have  gude  experience,  sa  lang  as  it  sail  pleis  zou  to  con- 
tinew  on  zour  part  the  gude  intelligence  begun  betwix  us.  And 
thus  richt  excellent,  richt  heigh  and  michtie  Princesse,  oure  deirest 
lister  and  cousine,  we  commit  zou  to  the  tuitioun  of  the  Almichty. 


AVPEMDIX. 


409 


Geren  under  owre  signet,  at  Say  ton,  the  fift  day  of  januar, 
and  of  oure  reigne  the  twenty  zere  1661. 

Zour  gud  sister  and  loving  consign, 

Marie  R 

Au  dos :  To  the  richt  excellent,  right  heich  and  michty  FrioeetM 
DOT  dearest  listee  and  cousin  The  Quene  of  iNGuoiDb 


410 


A  PP  SH  DIX 


Part  of  N.  Hubeit's,  or  French  Paris's.  confession  concern 
ing  the  above  letter : 

Interrogne  quant  prcmierement  il  entra  en  credit  avec  la  Royne? 
Resp. — Que  ce  fust  comme  la  Royne  fust  a  Kalendar,  allant  i 
Glasgow  ;  qn'allors  elle  lui  bailla  une  bourse  la,  ou  il  avoit  envyron 
>u  3  ou  200  escus,  pour  la  porter  a  Monsieur  dc  Boduel ;  lequel 
aprez  avoir  re9^ia  la  dicte  bourse  sur  le  cherain  entre  Kalendar  et 
Glasgow,  lui  diet  que  le  diet  Paris  s'en  alia  avec  la  Royne,  et  qu'il 
se  itnt  pres  d'eile,  et  qu'il  regardast  bien  a  ce  qu'elle  feroit,  lui 
disant  y?^;  la  Roy  as  hiy  donncralt  des  letters  pour  les  lid  porter. 
La  Royne  estant  arrevtCe  a  Glasgow  luy  diet,  je  t'envoyra  a  Lisle- 
bourg  (i.  e.  Edingburgh)  tient  toy  pr^^st ;  et  ayant  de^aeure  Id  dexix 
iours  avec  lad.  dame,  laquelle  escript  des  lettres  et  a  luy  les  bailla, 
dysant,  Vous  dires  de  bouche  a  Mou"Pieur  de  Bonduel  qu'il  bailie 
ces  lettres  qui  s'addres.ient  a  Monsieur  de  Lethingtou  a  luy  mesme, 
et  quMl  parle  a  luy,  &  voyez  les  parser  ensemble,  &  regardes  la 
fasson  de  faire,  &  quelle  miene  ilz  feront,  car  c'est  ce,  disoit  elle, 
pour  Eijavoir,  lequell  est  meilleur,  ponr  loger  Roye  a  Craig 
miliar,  ou  a  Kirk-a-field  afin  d'avoyr  bon  air.  Esiant  led.  Paris 
arryve  a  Lislebourg^  trouve  led.  de  Boduel  m  son  loijis  h  VAhbay^ 
lequel  lui  dist,  Ha  Paris,  tu  es  le  bien  verue.  Moii>3ieur,  dict-il, 
?oici  des  lettres  que  la  Royne  vous  envoye  ^  ^9e\  f  VC»a^lou»  ib 


Appendix. 


411 


fiiddington,  voua  priaut  de  les  luy  delivrcr,  &  que,  je  vous  y'la 
parler  ensemble  pour  veoir  votre  fasson  de  faire,  ct  comment  voua 
accordiez  ensemble.  Fort-bien,  dit-il  car  j'ay  ce  jourd'huy  parle  a 
luy,  et  luy  a  donne  une  haquierre.  Le  lendemain  led.  Paris  diet,  qu'il 
vim  au  logis  dud.  Boduel  par  trois  fois  le  chercher,  a  8,  9,  &  10 
heures,  &  ne  sceut  jamais  trouver ;  &  Tayant  cherche  il  voit  venir 
une  iroupe  de  gens  de  vers  le  Kirk-de-Field,  la  ou  estoit  led.  Sieur 
<J0(lurl  et  Monsieur  Jacques  Balfour,  coste  a  coste  ensemble,  les 
^uelles  s'ec  allerent  disner  au  logis  dud.  Monsieur,  Jacques.  Led. 
/aris  pria  Monsieur  de  Boduel  de  la  despecher  vers  la  Royne. 
Apres  Qisner,  dit-il  je  le  feray;  et  quant-il  retourna  querir  sa 
despecbe  fxpres  disner ^  il  trouva  le  Sieur  de  Boduel  &  led.  M. 
Jacques  seuis  teste  u  teste  en  une  chambre,  &  led.  Sieur  de  Boduel 
qui  escrivit  de  sa  propre  main,  et  apres  avoir  faict,  il  diet  a  Paris. 
Voyla  la  response ;  retourne  t'en  a  la  Royne,  et  me  recommandea 
bien  humblement  a  sa  bonne  grace,  &  lui  dictez  que  tout  ira  bien, 
Car  Monsieui  Jacques,  Balfour,  &  moy  n'avons  dormits  toute  la 
nuit  ains  avons  mis  ordre  en  toute,  &  avons  apreste  le  logis.  St 
dites  a  la  Royne,  que  je  luy  envoye  ce  diamant  que  tu  luy  porteras 
&  que  si  j'avois  mon  cceur,  je  le  luy  envoyerois  trcs  volontiers, 
mais  je  ne  Pay  pas  moy.  Va  t'en  a  Mons.  de  Liddington,  et  luy 
demandez,  s'il  veult  rescrie  a  la  Royne ;  ce  que  led.  Paris  faicte  k 
le  trouve  a  la  chambres  des  comptes  k  luy  demande  s'il  plaisoit 
rendre  la  response  aux  lettres  de  la  Royne,  que  Monsieur  de 
Boduel  lui  avoit  baillees.  Oui,  dit-il  a  la  dessus  ill  prend  du  papier 
incontinent,  et  escript  &  quant  faict,  led.  Paris  lui  diet  que  la 
Royne  I'avoit  commande  de  luy  demander  lequel  de  deux  logis 
seroit  le  meilleur  pour  ie  Roy  car  elle  ne  bougera  de  la  jusques  a 
ce  qu'il  auroyst  rapporte  sa  responce.  Led.  Liddington  lui  respon- 
dit,  que  le  Kirk-de-Field  seroit  bon,  &  led.  Sieur  de  Boduel  et  lui 
avoient  advise  ensemble  la  dessus,  ainsi  led.  Paris  partit  potir  s'en 
aller  a  Glascow  vers  la  Royne,  et  estant  de  retour  a  Lislebourg,  & 
avoir  faict  son  message  qui  lui  estoit  donne  desd.  Seig.  de  bouche, 
la  Royne  lui  demande,  s'il  avoict  veu  parler  Mess,  de  Boduell  h 
Liddington  ensemble. 


MABOABET  COUNTESS  OF  LENNOX  TO  MAKT  QUEEN  OP  SCOTfA. 

JTovemb^Tf  1915. 

It  may  please  your  Majesty,  I  Lave  received  your  token,  and 
mind  both  by  your  letter  and  other  ways,  much  to  my  comfort, 
Bpecially  perceiving  what  zealous  natural  care  your  Majesty  hath 
of  our  sweet  and  peerless  jewel*  in  Scotland.  I  have  been  no 
less  fearful  and  careful  as  your  Majesty  of  him,  that  the  wickea 
Governor  f  should  not  have  power  to  do  ill  to  his  person,  whom 
God  preserve  from  his  enemies !  Nothing  I  neglected ;  but  pre- 
sently upon  the  receipt  of  your  Majesty's,  the  Court  being  far  off', 
1  Bent  one  trusty,  who  hath  done  so  much  as  if  I  myself  had  been 
there,  both  to  understand  the  part  and  for  prevention  of  evil  to 
come ;  he  hath  dealt  with  such  as  both  may  and  will  have  regard 
to  our  jewel's  preservation,  and  will  use  a  bridle  to  the  wicked 
when  need  require. 

I  beseech  your  Majesty,  fear  not,  but  trust  in  God  that  aS 
fihall  be  well ;  the  treachery  of  your  traitors  is  knotm  better  than 
before,  I  shall  always  play  my  part  to  your  Majesty^ s  content^ 
willing  God,  so  as  may  tend  to  both  our  comforts.  And  now  must 
I  yield  your  Majesty  my  most  humble  thanks  for  your  good  remem 


*  Prince  Jamak 


t  Morton. 


A  PPE  KDI X . 


413 


brances  and  bounty  to  our  little  daughter  here,  who  some  day  may 
Berve  your  highness,  Almighty  God  grant,  and  to  your  Majesty 
lonsf  and  happy  life.    Hackney,  this  VI th  of  November. 

Before  the  Countess  signs  the  letter,  her  daughter-in- 
law,  Lady  Elizabeth  Lennox,  inserts  the  following  lines  to 
her  royal  sister-in-law : 

I  most  humbly  thank  your  Majesty  that  it  pleased  your  hi^nesa 
to  remember  me,  your  poor  servant,  both  with  a  token  and  in  my 
Lady  Grace^s  letter,  which  is  not  little  to  my  comfort.  I  can  but 
wish  and  pray  God  for  your  Majesty's  long  and  happy  estate,  till 
time  I  may  do  your  Majesty's  better  service,  which  I  think  long  to 
do;  and  shall  always  be  as  ready  thereto  as  any  servant  your 
Majesty  hath,  according  as  in  duty  I  am  bound.  I  beseech  your 
highness,  pardon  these  rude  lines,  and  accept  the  good  heart  of  the 
writer,  who  loves  and  honors  your  Majesty  unfeignedly. 

Your  Majesty's  most  humble  and  lowly  servant  during  life, 

K.  Lennox. 

Then  follows  the  signature  of  Darnley's  mother,  who 
subscribes  herself,  Your  Majesty's  most  humble  and  lov- 
ing mother  and  aunt, — M.  S." 

Indorsed — "  My  Lady's  Grace  the  Countess  of  Lennox 
to  the  Queen  of  Scotts." 

This  letter  is  from  Damley's  mother,  who  although  per- 
•uaded  by  Morton  to  join  her  husband  in  the  accusation 
of  the  Queen,  soon  saw  her  innocence,  and  with  humbU 
love  acknowledged  it. 


Appshdix 


(».) 

XARUS  STUART  A  ANTOIHI  BABIliaTOS« 

LelTJamel  168C 

F^al  et  bein  ayme,  suyvant  le  zele  et  enti^re  affection  dont  j'ay 
remarque  qu'avez  este  pousses  en  ce  qui  concerne  la  cause  com- 
mune de  k  relligion  et  de  la  mienne  aussy  en  particulier,  j'ay  toua- 
jours  faict  estat  et  fondement  de  vous,  comme  d'ung  principal  et 
tres  digne  instrument  pour  estre  employe  et  en  Tung  et  en  I'aultre. 
Ce  ne  m'a  este  moindre  consolation  d'avoir  este  adverty  de  vostre 
estat,  comme  vous  Tavcz  faict  par  voz  dernieres  lettres,  et  trouv6 
moyen  de  renouveller  noz  intelligences,  que  j'estoys  auparavant 
contristee  pour  me  trouver  sans  Tung  et  sans  I'aultre.  Je  vous  prie 
doncq  m'escrire  a  I'advenir,  le  plus  souvant  que  pourrez,  de  toutes 
les  occurrences  que  jugerez  importer  aulcunement  le  bien  de  mea 
affaires,  comme,  de  ma  part,  je  ne  fauldray  aussy  de  tenir  pareille 
correspondence  avecq  vous,  le  plus  soigneusement  et  avecq  toate 
la  dilligence  qui  me  sera  possible. 

Je  ne  puis  que  louer,  pour  plusieurs  grandes  et  importantes  con- 
siderations, qui  seroient  icy  trop  longues  a  reciter,  le  desir  que 
vous  avez  en  general  d'empescher  de  bonne  heure  les  desseings  de 
noz  ennemys  qui  laschent  d'abolir  nostre  relligion  en  ce  royaulme, 
en  nous  ruynant  tons  ensemble.  Car  j'ay  des  longtemps  remonstr^ 
aux  aultres  princes  catholiques  estrangers,  et  Inexperience  le  con- 
firme,  que,  tant  plus  nous  differons  d'y  mettre  la  main  des  deux 
oost^s,  tant  plus  grand  advantage  nous  donnons  a  nos  advcrsayrei 


A  P  P  K  N  D  I  X  . 


415 


de  se  pr^Tdloyr  contre  lesdits  princes,  comme  ilz  ont  faict  contre  le 
Roy  d'Espaigne ;  et  ce  pendant  les  catholiques  d'icy,  demeurant 
exposes  a  toutes  sortes  de  persecutions  et  de  cruaultes,  diminuent 
de  plus  en  plus  de  nombre,  de  forces  et  de  moyens.  Tellement 
que  je  crains  fort  que,  si  i'on  n'y  remedie  de  bonne  heure,  ilz  seront 
reduicts  en  tel  estat  qu'il  ne  leur  sera  jamais  plus  possible  de  se 
remettre  sus  ny  de  s'ayder  d'aulcun  secours  qu'on  leur  pourra  cy 
apres  preter. 

Quant  a  mon  particulier,  je  vous  prie  d'asseurer  noz  principaux 
aniys  que,  quand  bien  je  n'auroys  auleun  interest  pour  moy  mesmea 
en  ceste  affaire  (car  je  n'estime  ce  que  je  pens  pretendre  que  bien 
peu  au  prix  du  bien  publicq  de  cest  estat),  je  seray  tousjours  presto 
et  tres  affectionnee  a  y  employer  ma  vie  et  tout  ce  que  j'ay  ou 
pourray  avoir  de  plus  en  ce  monde. 

Or,  pour  donner  ung  bon  fondement  a  ceste  entreprinse,  afin  de 
la  pouvoir  conduyre  a  ung  heureuz  succez,  11  fault  que  vous  consi- 
deriez,  de  point  en  point,  quel  nombre  de  gens,  tant  de  pied  que 
de  cheval,  pourrez  lever  entre  tons,  et  quels  capitaynes  vous  leur 
donnerez  en  chasque  comte,  en  cas  qu'on  ne  puisse  avoir  ung 
general  en  chef ;  de  quelles  villes,  ports  et  havres  vous  vous  tenez 
asseurez,  tant  vers  le  nord  qu'aux  pays  de  I'ouest  et  du  sud,  pour  y 
recevoir  secours  des  Pays-Bas,  de  France  et  d'Espaigne;  quel 
endroict  vous  estimes  le  plus  propre  et  advantageux  pour  le  rendez 
vous  de  toutes  voz  forces,  et  de  quel  coste  estes  d'advis  qu'il  faul- 
dra  puis  apres  marcher ;  quel  nombre  de  forces  estrangieres,  tant 
de  pied  que  de  cheval,  voudres-vous  demander  (lesquelles  il  fauldra 
proportionner  suyvant  le  nombre  des  vostres  propres),  et  pour 
combien  de  temps  payees;  ensemble  les  munitions  et  havres  lea 
plus  commodes,  pour  leur  descente  en  ce  royaume,  des  t^oia 
endroicts  que  dessus ;  la  quantite  d'armes  et  d'argent  dont  il  vous 
fauldra  pourvoir  en  cas  que  n'en  ayez  des  vostres ;  [com^nent  les 
six  gentilsh^mmes  sont  deliberez  de  proceder ;]  et  le  moyen  qu'il 
feiuldra  aussi  prendre  pour  me  delivrer  de  ceste  prison. 

Ayant  prins  una  bonne  resolution  entre  vous  mesmes  (qui  estef 
iM  principaux  instruments,  el  le  moings  en  norabro  qu'il  vonis  sew 


Appendix. 


possible)  8ur  toutes  ces  particularitez,  je  suis  d' ad  vis  que  la  com. 
maniquiez  en  toute  diligence  a  Bernardino  de  Mendoza,  ambas8a« 
denr  ordinaire  du  Roy  d'Espaigne  en  France,  lequel,  oultre  I'exp^* 
rience  qu'il  a  de  Pestat  des  affaires  de  par  de9a,  ne  fauldra,  je  voua 
puis  as&eurer,  de  s'y  employer  de  tout  son  pouvoir.  J'auray  soing 
de  Tadvertir  de  ceste  affaire  et  de  la  luy  recommander  bien  instan> 
ment,  comme  aussy  a  tels  aultres  que  je  trouveray  estre  necessaire. 
Mais  11  fault  que  fassiez  choiz  bien  a  propos  de  quelque  personnage 
secret  et  fidele  pour  nianier  ceste  affaire  avecq  Mendoza  et  aultrea 
hors  du  royaume,  duquel  seul  vous  vous  puissies  tous  fier,  afin  que 
ladicte  negociation  soyt  tenue  tant  plus  secrete ;  ce  que  je  vous 
recommande  sur  toutes  choses  pour  vostre  proper  seuret^.  Si 
vostre  messagier*  vous  rapporte  une,responce  bien  fondee  et  cer« 
taine  asseurance  du  secours  que  demandez,  vous  pourres  alors  don- 
ner  ordre  (mais  non  dcvant,  car  ce  seroyt  en  vain)  que  tous  ceux 
de  vostre  party  par  de^a  facent  provision,  le  plus  secrettement 
qu'il  sera  possible,  d'armes,  bons  chevaux  et  argent  coraptant,  pour 
estre  prests  a  marcher  avec  tout  cest  ecquipaige  aussy  tost  qu'ilx 
seront  mande  par  leurs  chefs  et  conducteurs  en  chasque  comt6. 
Et,  a  fin  de  tant  mieulx  pallier  cest  affayre  (communiquant  settle- 
ment aux  principaux  le  fondement  de  Pentreprinse),  il  suffira,  pour 
ung  commencement,  que  donniez  seulement  a  entendre  aux  aultrea 
que  tous  ces  aprests  ne  se  font  a  aultre  fin  que  pour  vous  fortifier 
cntre  vous  mesmes,  si  la  n^cessit^  le  requeroyt,  contre  les  puritaina 
de  ce  royaulme,  dont  les  principaux,  commandant  es  Pays-Bas, 
avecq  les  meilleures  forces  de  ce  diet  royaume,  auroyent  entreprins 
(comnie  vous  en  pourres  faire  courir  le  bruict)  d'exterminer  a  leur 
retour  tous  les  catholiques  et  d'usurper  la  couronne.  non  seulement 
contre  moy  mesmes  et  les  aultres  quy  y  ont  legitime  pretension, 
mais,  qui  plus  est,  contre  leur  propre  Royne  qui  rigne  a  present, 
si  elle  ne  vouldra  consentir  de  se  laisser  enti^rement  gouverner  a 
leur  appetit.  Ces  plainctes  pourront  servir  fort  a  propos  pour 
fonder  et  establir  une  assotiation  et  confederation  gen^rale  entrf 


«  Gilbert  GUTord. 


Appendix. 


411 


fOTM  tons,  comme  pour  vostrc  juste  deffense  et  conservation  d« 
vostre  relligion,  vies,  terres  et  possessions,  contre  I'oppression  et 
entreprinses  desdits  puritains,  sans  rien  toucher  directcment  paf 
escript,  rien  qui  puisse  estre  au  prejudice  de  la  Royne ;  a  la  preser- 
vation de  laquelle  et  de  ses  legitimes  heritiers  (ne  faisant  toutes- 
fois  en  ce  point  auoame  mention  de  moy)  vous  ferez  plustost  sem- 
Want  d^estre  tres  afFectionnez.  Ces  choses  estant  ainsy  prepareea, 
et  les  forces,  tant  dedans  que  dehors  le  royaulme,  toutes  prestes,  il 
fauldra  [ahrs  mettre  les  six  gentilshornmes  en  besoigne  et^  donner 
ordre  que  [leur  dessetng  estant  effectue^']  je  puisse,  quant  et  quant, 
estre  tiree  hors  d'icy,  et  que  toutes  voz  forces  soynt  en  ung  raes- 
mes  temps  en  campaigne  pour  me  recevoir  pendant  qu'on  attendra 
le  secours  estranger,  qu'il  fauldra  alors  haster  en  toute  dilligence. 
[Or,  d^aultant  qu'on  ne  peust  constituer  vmg  jour  prefix  pour  VaC' 
complissement  de  ce  que  lesdicts  gentilshmnmes  ont  entreprins,  Je 
vouldrois  qiCilz  eussenc  tousjours  aupres  d^eulx^  ou  pour  le  moings 
en  cour,  quatre  vaillans  hommes  hien  monies  pour  donner  advis  en 
toute  dilligence  du  succez  dudict  desseing^  aussytost  quHl  sera  effectui^ 
a  ceulx  qui  auront  charge  de  me  tirer  hors  d'icg^  afin  de  s'*g  pouvoit 
transporter  avant  que  man  gardien  soyt  adverty  de  ladicte  execution^ 
oUy  a  tout  Je  mx)ings^  avant  quHl  ayt  le  loisir  de  se  fortifier  dedans 
la  maison^  ou  de  me  transporter  ailleurs,  11  seroyt  7iecessaire  qu^on 
envoynst  deux  ou  trois  de  ces  diets  advertisseurs  par  divers  chemins^ 
afin  quey  Vun  venant,  a  faillir,  Vaultre  puisse  passer  oultre  ;  et  il 
fauldroyt  en  un  mesme  instant  essay er  (Fempescher  les  passages 
ordinaires  aux  postes  courriers.*^ 

C'est  le  project  que  je  trouve  le  plus  a  propos  pour  ceste  entre* 
prinse,  afin  de  la  conduire  avecq  esgard  de  iiostre  propre  seuret^. 
De  s'esmouvoir  de  ce  coste  devant  que  vous  soyez  asseures  d'ung 
bon  secours  estrangier,  ne  seroyt  que  vous  mettre,  sans  aulcun 
propos,  en  dangler  de  participer  a  la  miserable  fortune  d'aultres 

*  Les  passages  imprimis  en  italiques  et  entre  crochets,  p.  887  et  889,  relatift 
au  projet  d'assassinat,  presentant  une  contradiction  evidente  avec  ce  qui  suit 
Immediatement,  j'ai  la  conviction  que  ce  sont  les  luterpolatioua  faitee  pai 
Pbellppes  dauE  le  chiflfre  originaL 

18* 


418 


Appendix. 


qui  ont  par  cydevant  entreprins  sur  ce  suject ;  ec  de  me  tirer  hori 

d'icy  sans  estre  premi^rement  bien  asseurez  de  me  pouvoir  mettr« 
au  milieu  d'une  bonne  armee  ou  en  quelque  lieu  de  seurete^  jusquea 
a  ce  que  noz  forces  fusseat  assemblees  et  les  estrangiers  arrives, 
ne  seroyt  que  donner  ass^s  d'occasion  a  ceste  Royne  ia,  si  elle  me 
prenoyt  de  rechef,  de  m'enclorre  en  quelque  fosse  d'ou  je  no  pour- 
lois  jamais  sortir,  si  pour  le  moings  j'en  pouvois  eschaper  a  ce  prix 
la,  et  de  persecuter  avecq  toute  extremity  ceulx  qui  m'auroynt 
assists,  dent  j'auroys  plus  de  regret  que  d'aversite  quelconque  qui 
me  pourroyt  eschoir  a  moy  mesmes.  Et  pour  aultant,  il  fault  que 
ie  vous  admoneste  de  rechef,  le  plus  instamment  qu'il  m'est  possi- 
ble, que  preniez  garde  et  usiez  d'ung  soing  et  vigilance  extraordi- 
naire pour  acheminer  et  asseurer  si  bien  tout  ce  qui  apartiendra  a 
Texecution  de  cest  entreprinse  que,  moyennant  I'ayde  de  Dieu, 
vous  la  puissies  conduyre  a  une  bonne  et  heureuse  fin,  remettant 
au  jugement  de  noz  principaulx  amis  de  par-de^a,  avec  lesquels 
devez  traicter  cy-dessus,  qu'ilz  advisent  sur  ledict  project  (lequel  ne 
eervira  que  pour  une  proposition  et  ouverture)  comme  tous  ensem- 
ble trouverez  le  plus  expedient;  et  a  vous  en  particulier  je  remeta 
aussy  d'asseurer  les  gentilshommes  susdits  de  tout  ce  qui  sera 
requis  de  ma  part  pour  Tentire  accomplissement  de  leurs  bonnea 
intentions.  Vous  pourres  aussy  adviser  et  conclurre  tous  ensem- 
ble si  (en  cas  que  leur  desseing  ne  prenne  pied,  comme  il  peult 
advenir)  il  sera  neantmoings  expedient  ou  non  d'entreprendre  m» 
delivrance  et  I'execution  du  reste  de  Tentreprinse.  Mais,  si  le 
malheur  vouloyt  que  ne  me  puissiez  avoir,  pour  estre  enfermee 
dedans  la  Tour  de  Londres  ou  en  quelqu'aultre  lieu  avecq  plus 
grande  garde,  ne  laisses  pourtant,  je  vous  prie  pour  I'houneur  de 
Dieu,  de  poursuivre  le  reste  de  Tentreprinse ;  car  je  mourray  tous- 
Sours  tres  contente  quand  je  s^auray  qu'estes  delivres  de  la  misem- 
ble  servitude  en  laquelle  estes  detenus  captifz. 

J'essayeray  de  faire  prendre  les  armes  aux  catholiques  d'Escosse 
et  de  leur  uettre  mon  filz  entre  les  mains  au  mesmes  temps  que 
ees  choses  s'effpctueront  icy,  afin  que  par  ce  moyen  noz  ennemyi 
ne  puissent  tirer  aulcut  eecoure  d'illecq.   Je  vouldrois  ausay  qo'oB 


Appendix, 


419 


^aschat  a  fuire  qiielqu'esmeute  en  Irlande,  laquelle  derroyt  com* 
mencer  ung  peu  auparavant  qu'on  feit  rien  par  detja,  afin  que 
ralarme  fust  donnee  en  ung  endroict  tout  contraire  a  celuy  ou  Ton 
pretend  faire  le  coup. 

Yoz  raisons  qu'on  doyt  avoir  ung  general  ou  chef  principal  me 
semblent  fort  pertinentes,  et  pour  tant  seroyt  bien  a  propos  d'es- 
}ayer  le  comte  d'Arundell  obliquement,  ou  quelqu'ung  de  ses  fr^res, 
et  mesmes  d'en  rechercher  le  jeune  comte  de  Northumberland,  s^il 
se  trouve  en  liberte.  D'oultreraer  on  peult  avoir  le  comte  de  West 
merland,  le  nom  et  la  maison  duquel  peult  beaucoup,  comme  s^avez, 
au  pays  du  nord,  et  le  mylord  Paget,  qui  a  aussy  oeaucoup  de 
moycns  en  plusieurs  corntes,  d'icy  pres ;  Tung  et  Taultre  pourront 
cstre  secrettement  rammencs  en  ce  pays,  et  avecq  eulx  plusieurs 
aultres  des  principaux  bannys,  si  Tentreprinse  vient  a  prendre  pied. 
Ledit  mylord  Paget  se  trouve  de  present  en  Espaigne,  ou  il  pourra 
traicter  tout  ce  que  luy  vouldr6s  communiquer,  soyt  directement  a 
luy  mesmes,  ou  par  son  frere  Charles,  touchant  ceste  affaire.  Pren- 
nez  garde  qu'aulcuns  de  voz  messagiers,  qu'envoyerez  hors  du  roy- 
aume,  ne  portent  iettres  quelconques  sur  culx :  ains  envoyez  lea 
despeschcs  devant  ou  apres  eulx  par  quclques  aultres.  Donnas 
vous  garde  des  espions  et  traictres  qui  sont  entre  vous,  mesmement 
de  quelques  prcstres  qui  ont  esto  desja  pratiques  par  noz  ennemya 
pour  vous  descouvrir;  et  surtout  ne  portes  jamais  sur  vous  aucua 
papier  qui  puisse  nuyre  de  fa^on  que  ce  soyt ;  car  de  seniblables 
erreurs  est  par  cy-devant  procedee  la  condemnation  de  ceulx  qui 
ont  este  justiciez,  contre  iesquelz  on  n'eut  sans  cela  rien  prouver- 
Ne  discouvres  voz  noms  ny  intentions  que  le  moings  que  vous 
pourres  a  Tambassadeur  de  France  qui  est  a  Londres ;  car  combien 
qu'il  Boyt,  a  ce  que  j'entends,  ung  fort  honneste  gentilhomme,  de 
bonne  conscience  e<.  relligion,  si  me  doute-je  que  son  maistre  ne 
tienne  avecq  ceste  Royne  la  ung  aultre  train  tout  contraire  a  noz 
intentions,  qui  pourroyt  egtre  cause  de  luy  faire  interrompre  noa 
desseings  s'il  en  avoyt  la  cognoissance. 

J'ay  jusques  a  present  faict  instance  qu'on  changeast  mon  lo^is 
8t  pour  responce  on  a  nomm4  le  soul  chasteau  de  Dudley,  comme 


Appendix. 


€  plufc  propre  pour  m'y  lo^«r,  tellemeat  qu'il  y  a  apparence  Cfut 
ii  dans  la  i5n  de  cest  est6  on  m'y  menera.  Poiirtant  advisez,  aussy- 
tost  que  j*y  seray,  sur  les  moyens  dont  on  pourra  user  es  enviroM 
pour  m'en  faire  eschapper.  Si  je  demeure  icy,  on  ne  se  pcult  ser- 
vir  que  d'ung  de  ces  trois  expedients  qui  s'ensuyvent :  le  premier 
qu'a  ung  jour  prefix,  comme  je  seray  sortye  pour  prendre  Pair  i 
cheyal  sur  la  plaine,  qui  est  entre  ce  lieu  et  Stafford,  ou  vous  S9ave2 
qu'il  se  rencontre  ordinairement  bien  peu  de  persounes,  quelques 
cinquante  ou  soixante  hommes  bien  montez  et  armez  me  viennent 
prendre ;  ce  qu'ilz  pourront  ays4ment  faire,  mon  gardien  n'ayant 
communement  avecq  luy  que  dix-huict  ou  vingt  chevaulx,  pour* 
veus  seulement  de  pistolles.  Le  second  est  qu'on  vienne  a  minuict, 
ou  tost  apres,  mettre  le  feu  granges  et  estableo  que  tous  s^av^a 
estre  aupres  de  la  maison,  afin  que  les  serviteurs  de  mon  gardien  y 
estant  accourus,  voz  gens  ayant  chascun  une  marque  pour  se 
recognoistre  de  nuict,  puissent  ce  pendf<nt  surprendre  la  maison, 
ou  j'esp^re  vous  pouvoir  seconder  ayecq  ce  peu  de  serviteurs  que 
Vy  ay.  Le  troisiesme  est  que  les  charrettes  qui  viennent  icy,  ordi- 
nairement arrivant  de  grand  matin,  on  les  pourroyt  accomoder  de 
fa9on  et  y  apposter  tels  charretiers,  qu'estant  soubz  la  grande  porta 
les  charettes  se  renverseroynt  tellement  qu'i  accourant,  quant  e^ 
quant,  avec  ceulx  de  vostre  suyte,  vous  vous  pourriez  faire  maistro 
Je  la  maison  et  m'enlever  incontinent,  ce  qui  ne  seroyt  difficile  a 
*x Neuter,  devant  qu'il  y  peult  arriver  aulcun  nombre  de  soldats  au 
scours,  d'aultant  qu'ilz  sont  loges  en  plusieurs  eadroicte  hors  d'icy, 
quelques  ungs  a  demy  mile  et  d'aultres  a  ung  mile  entier. 

Quelle  qu'en  soit  Fyssue,  je  vous  ay  et  auray  tousjours  tr(^3  grande 
•bligation  pour  Tolfre  qu'avez  faict  de  vous  mettre  en  hazard, 
lomme  faictes,  pour  ma  delivrance,  et  j'essaycray,  par  tous  les 
fioyens  que  jamais  je  pourray,  de  le  recognoistre  en  vostre  endroict 
^omme  meritez.  J'ay  command^  qu'on  vous  feit  uq  plus  ample 
alphabet,  lequel  vous  sera  baill6  avecq  la  preseute.  Dieu  toal 
puissant  vous  ayt  en  sa  sainete  garde. 

Yostre  entierement  bonne  amye  a  jamays, 

X. 

P.  8.    Ne  faillez  brusler  )a  pr^sente  quant  et  quant. 


Appendix 


421 


An^ssoiis  est  ecrxt  ce  qui  suit :  C'ef»t  la  copie  des  lettrea  do  !a 
Rojne  d'Escosse  derni^rement  a  moy  envoyees. 

Anthonie  Babinqton, 

Je  pense  de  vray  que  c'est  la  lettre  escripte  par  Sa  Majesty  i 
Babington,  comme  il  me  souvient, 
6  September  1586. 

Nau. 

Telle  ou  semblable  me  semble  avoir  este  la  response  escript  en 
fran9oys  par  monsieur  Nau,  laquelle  j'ay  traduict  et  mis  cn  chiflFre, 
comme  j'en  fais  mention  au  pied  d'une  copie  de  la  lettre  de  Mr 
Babington,  laquelle  monsieur  Nau  a  signe  le  premier. 

Gilbert  Curle. 
5  September  1586. 

A  u  dos  de  la  main  de  Phelippes :  Queen 
Oi  Scots  TO  Anthony  Babinotom* 
17  july  1586. 


POST-SCRIPTUM  ATTRIBUE  A  MaRIK  StUABT,* 

I  would  be  glad  to  know  the  names  and  qualities  of  the  six  f  ecr 
ucmcn  which  are  to  accomplish  the  designment ;  for  that  it  maybt 
i  shall  be  able,  upon  knowledge  of  the  parties,  to  give  you  some 
further  advice  necessary  to  be  followed  therein  ;  [And  even  so,  do 
I  wish  to  be  made  acquainted  with  the  names  of  all  such  principal 

♦  Le  chiffre  orijiinal  de  ce  poHt-scriptum  fut  trouv6  «n  1842,  par  M.  P.  P. 
Tytler,  dane  le  State  paper  office  de  Londres  (roy.  History  of  Scotland^  t. 
VllI,  p.  326),  et  c'est  M.  Lemon  qui  I'a  dechiflfre.  II  n'entrait  nullement  dana 
mes  intentions  d'admettre  dans  ce  Recueil  aucune  piece  apocryphe:  maij 
comme  ce  faux  post-scriptum  me  semble  une  des  preuves  les  plus  convain- 
^ntes  des  interpolations  introduites  dans  la  lettre  meme  de  Marie  Stuart,  ei 
fue  j'ai  signaHea  ci-dessas  dans  la  note,  p.  390,  f  ai  cru  devoir  le  reproduire  id. 


4^2S  Appendix. 

p&rso7i9f  as  also  who  be  already  as  a^so  who  ief  ].  As  also  iirrt* 
fcimo  to  time,  particularly  how  you  proceed :  and  as  soon  as  you 
BU'y,  for  the  same  purpose,  who  be  already,  and  how  far  every  one, 
p. ivy  hereunto. 

A%  dos^  de  la  main  de  Phellippes :  The  post- 
script of  the  Scottish  Queen's  letter  to 
Babington 

Attestation  de  Mr.  Robert  Lemon. 

1  hereby  declare,  that  the  above  fs  a  true  and  literal  decipher  of 
the  document  in  the  State  papei  office  in  cipher  endorsed  by 
Philipps. — TTie  postscript  of  the  Scottish  Qveen's  letter  to  Babington. 
— The  lines  struck  through  with  the  pen  are  in  a  similar  manner 
Btruck  through  in  the  original.  The  spelling  has  been  modernized 
len  Janvier  1842). 

Robert  Lemoh, 


4i3 


(Q.y-See  page  86i 

LeTfivrter  IBSt* 

Jopie  du  testament  et  d'ling  memoire  de  la  feu  Royna 
Marie  Stuart,  Royne  D'Escosse  et  Douain^re  de  France; 
la  dicte  copie  prise  sur  I'original  du  dit  testament  et  du 
dit  radmoire  olographes  et  tout  escrits  et  signes  de  la 
propre  main  de  la  dicte  Royne,  la  veille  et  le  jour  de  m 
mort  qui  fut  le  8  fevrier  1587. 

Au  nom  du  Pere,  du  Fils,  et  du  Saint  Esprit. 

Je  Maiie,  par  la  grace  de  Dieu,  Royne  d'Esoosse,  Douairi^re 
de  France,  estant  preete  de  mourir  et  n'ayant  pas  moyen  de  faire 
mon  testament,  j'ay  mis  ces  articles  par  escrit,  lesquels  j^entens  ct 
veus  avoir  mesme  force  que  sUls  estoient  mis  en  forme. 

Protestant  premier  de  mourir  en  la  foy  Catholique,  Apostolique, 
ct  Romaine.  Premier,  je  veus  qu'il  soit  faict  ung  service  complel 
pour  mon  ame  en  I'eglise  de  Saint  Denis  en  France,  et  I'autre  a 
Saint  Pierre  de  Rheims,  ou  tons  mes  serviteurs  se  trouveront  en  la 
maniere  qu'il  sera  ordonne  a  ceux  a  qui  j'en  donne  la  charge,  icy 
dessous  nommes. 

Plus  q'ung  obit  annuel  soit  tonde  pour  prier  pour  mon  ame  a 
^rpetuite,  au  lieu  et  en  la  maniere  qu'il  sera  advise  le  plus 
n  <iimode. 

tour  9  H|ioy  fournir  je  veus  que  mes  maisons  de  Fontainebleaa 


42^ 


Appenb  f  X. 


ioient  vendues,  esp^rant  qu'au  surplus  le  Roy  m'aydera,  commi 
pour  mon  memoire  je  Ten  requiers. 

Je  veus  que  ma  terre  d'Estrepagny  demeure  a  mon  cousin  de 
Guize  pour  unne  de  ses  filles,  si  elle  venoit  a  et^tre  mariee.  En  ces 
quartiers  je  quitteray  la  moitie  des  arrerages  qui  me  sont  deus,  ou 
unne  partie,  a  condition  que  I'autre  soit  payee  pour  estre  par  me« 
executeurs  employee  en  aumosne  perpetuelle. 

Pour  a  quoy  mieus  pourvoir,  les  papiers  seront  recherches  et 
d^livres  selon  I'assigiiation  pour  en  faire  la  poursuitte. 

Je  veus  aussy  que  Targent  qui  se  retirera  de  mon  proces  de 
Secondat  soit  distribue  comme  il  s'ensuit. 

Premier,  a  la  descharge  du  payement  de  mes  debtes  et  mande- 
ments  cy  apres  nommes  qui  ne  seront  ja  payes;  premier  les  deua 
mil  escus  de  Courle  que  je  veus  luy  estre  pay^s  sans  nuUe  contra- 
diction comme  estant  en  faveur  de  mariage,  sans  que  Nau,  ny 
autre  luy  en  puisse  rien  demander,  quelque  obligation  qu'il  en  aye, 
d"autant  qu'elle  n'est  que  feinte  et  que  I'argent  estoit  a  moy  et  non 
emprunte,  lequel  je  ne  fis  que  luy  montrer,  et  I'ai  depuis  retire,  ei 
me  Ta  on  pris  depuis  avec  le  reste  a  Chartelay,  lequel  je  luy  donnf. 
B'il  le  pent  recouvrer,  comme  il  a  este  promis,  pour  payement  de* 
quatre  mil  francs  promis  par  ma  mort,  et  mil  pour  marier  unnci 
sienne  seur,  et  m'ayant  demande  le  reste  pour  ses  despens  en 
prison.  Quant  a  Tassignation  de  pareille  somme  a  Nau,  elle  n'est  pas 
d'obligation ;  ct  pour  ce  a  tousjours  este  mon  intention  que  elle 
fust  la  derniere  payee,  et  encores  en  cas  qu'il  fasse  aparoir  n'avcnr 
faict  ^ontre  la  condition  pour  laquelle  je  les  luy  avois  donnes,  au 
tewnoignage  de  mes  serviteurs. 

Pour  la  partie  de  douze  cens  escus  qu'il  m'a  faict  allouer,  par 
luy  empruntee  pour  mon  service  de  Beauregard  jusques  a  six  cens 
escus,  et  de  Gervais  trois  cens,  et  le  reste  je  ne  s^ay  d'ou,  il  fault 
qu'il  les  repaye  de  son  argent  et  que  j'en  soie  quitte  et  I'assignation 
eassee,  car  je  n'en  ay  rien  receu,  mais  est  le  tout  en  ces  coffres,  si 
ce  n'estoit  que  ils  en  soient  payes  par  deed.  Comme  que  ce  soit, 
il  fault  que  ceste  partie  me  revienne  bonne,  n'ayant  rien  receu,  et 


Appendix.  425 

b1  etle  estolt  payee,  je  dois  aroir  recours  snr  pon  bien ;  et  puis  jt 
reuH  que  Pasquier  compte  des  deniers  que  il  a  despendus  et  receua 
par  le  commandement  de  Nau  par  les  mahis  des  servitcurs  de 
Monsieur  de  Chasteauneuf,  Pambassadeur  de  Frauce. 
Plus,  je  veus  que  me  comptea  soyent  onys,  et  mon  tr^sorior 

Plus,  que  les  gaiges  et  parties  de  rues  gens,  tant  de  rann4« 
passee  que  de  la  presente,  soyent  tous  payees  arant  toute  autre 
choses,  tant  gaiges  que  pensions,  horsmis  les  pensions  de  Nau  et 
de  Courle,  jusques  a  ce  que  Ton  suche  ce  qui  en  doibt  avenir,  et 
ce  quHls  auront  m6rit6  de  moy  pour  pensions,  si  ce  n'est  que  la 
femme  de  Courle  soit  en  n^cessite,  ou  luy  maltraitte  pour  moy  ; 
des  gaiges  de  Nau  de  mesme. 

Je  veus  que  les  deufi  mil  quatre  cens  francs  que  j'ai  donn6  a 
Jeanne  Knedy  luy  soient  payes  en  argent,  comme  il  estoit  port6  en 
eon  premier  don,  quoy  faisant  la  pension  de  Yolly  Douglas  me 
reviendra,  laquelle  je  donne  a  Fontenay  pour  ses  services  et  despens 
non  r6compons6s. 

Je  veus  que  les  quatre  mil  escus  de  ce  banquier  soyent  solicites 
et  repayes,  duquel  j*ay  oubli6  le  nom ;  mais  T^vesque  de  Glascou 
e'en  resouviendra  asses  ;  et  si  I'agsignation  premiere  venait  a  man- 
quer,  je  veus  qu'il  leur  en  soit  donn^e  unne  sur  les  premiers 
deniers  de  Secondat. 

Les  dix  mil  francs  que  Tambassadeur  avoit  receuz  pour  moy,  je 
veus  quMls  soient  employes  entre  mes  serviteurs  qui  s'ea  vont  I 
present ;  a  69avoir : 
Premier,  deus  mil  francs  a  moii  medecin, 

deus  mil  a  Elizabet  Courle, 

deus  mil  francs  a  S6bastien  Paiges, 

deus  mil  a  Marie  Paiges,  ma  filleule 

d  Beauregard  mil  francs, 

ft  Movbray  mil  francs, 

mil  a  Goui^co, 

nil  Gerrala 


42« 


PENDIX. 


Plus,  sur  les  autres  deniew  de  mon  reveim,  et  reste  de  Sccondat, 
tt  de  toutcs  mes  casualites,  je  reus  estre  employes  cinq  mil  franca 
I  la  Misericorde  des  enfents  de  Jtnefms. 

A  mes  escolliers  deus  mil  francs. 

Aus  Quatres  (ordres)  Mendiants  la  rsomme  qui  semblera  n^ceasaire 
a  mes  executeurs,  selon  les  moyens  qui  se  trouverront. 

Cinq  cens  frans  aus  hospitaus. 

A  Tescuyer  de  cuisine  Martin  je  donne  mille  francs. 

Mil  francs  a  Annibal,  et  le  laijsse  a  mon  cousin  de  Guyse,  son 
parrain,  a  le  mettre  en  quelque  lieu  pour  sa  vie  en  son  service. 

Jo  laisse  cinq  cens  frans  a  Nicolas  et  cinq  cens  francs  pour  sea 
fiUes,  quand  il  les  marrira. 

Je  laisse  cinq  cens  francs  a  Robin  Hamilton,  et  prie  mon  fils  le 
prendre,  et  monsieur  de  Glascou,  ou  Tevesque  de  Rosce. 

Je  laisse  a  Didier  son  greffe,  sous  la  faveur  du  Roy. 

Je  donne  cinq  cens  francs  a  Jean  Landor  et  prie  mon  cousin  de 
Guyse  ou  du  Mayne  le  prendre  en  leur  service,  et  Messieurs  de 
Glascou  et  de  Rosse  qu'ils  ayent  soing  de  le  voir  pourveu.  Je 
veus  que  son  pere,  soit  paye  de  ses  gaiges,  et  luy  laisse  cinq  cens 
francs. 

Je  veus  que  mil  francs  soyent  payes  a  Gourgeon  pour  argent  et 
autres  choses  qu'il  m'a  fournies  en  ma  necessite. 

Je  veus  que,  si  Bourgoin  accomplit  le  voyage  du  voeu  qu'il  a  faict 
pour  moy  a  Saini  Nicolas,  que  quinze  cens  francs  lui  soient  livr^s  i 
eet  effect. 

Je  laisse,  selon  moh  peu  de  moyen,  sil  mil  francs  a  T^vesque  de 
Glascou,  et  trois  mil  a  celuy  de  Rosse. 

Et  je  laisse  la  donaison  de  casualites  et  droicts  seigneuriant 
^c61es,  a  mon  fiUeul,  fils  de  monsieur  Du  Ruisseau. 
Je  donne  trois  cens  francs  a  Laurens. 
Plus,  trois  cens  francs  a  Suzanne. 

Et  laisse  dix  mil  francs  entre  les  quatres  parties  qui  ont  est^ 
respondanz  pour  moy,  et  au  solliciteur  Varmy.  ' 
Je  veus  que  Fargent  provenant  des  meubles  que  j'ay  ordonn^s 


Appendix. 


427 


•aire  TOLdus  a  Londres,  soit  ptur  deffrayer  le  voya  dea  mes  gena 
jusques  en  France. 

Ma  coche,  je  la  laisse  pour  mener  mes  fillcs,  et  les  chevaus  pour 
les  vendre  ou  autrement  en  faire  leurs  couimodites. 

II  y  a  environ  cent  escus  des  gaiges  des  annet^^  passees  deubs 
Bourgoing  que  je  veus  luy  estre  payes. 

Je  laisse  deus  mil  francs  a  Melvin,  mon  maisti  e  d'hostel. 

Je  ordonne  pour  principal  executeur  de  ma  volonte  mon  cousin 
le  due  de  Guise. 

Apr^s  luy  I'archevesque  de  Glascou ;  I'evesque  de  Rosse,'et  moB* 
Bieur  Du  Ruisseau,  mon  chancelier, 

J'entend  que  sans  faute  Le  Preau  jouisse  de  «es  deux  pr^ 
bandes. 

Je  recommande  Marie  Paiges,  ma  fiUeule,  a  ma  cou>?ine  madamc 
de  Guyse,  et  la  prie  la  prendre  en  son  service  ;  et  ma  t^ate  de  Saint 
Pierre,  faire  mettre  Movbray  en  quelque  bon  lieu,  ou  a  vetenir  Of 
lOQ  service  pour  Thonneur  de  Dieu, 

Paict  ce  jourd'huy  1  fevrier 

Ainsi  sign  6, 


List  n  Principal  Works  Consuitei^ 


t»ABANOFF,  Kince  Alexandre — "  Lettres  Instructions,  nt  l^cwwiwi 
de  Marie  Stuart,  Reine  d'ficosse,  publics  sur  les  originaux  et  leg 
Manuscrits  du  State  Paper  Office  de  Londres,  et  des  prin- 
cipales  archives  et  bibliotheques  de  TEurop*.'  'i  Jola,  8va 
London  and  Paris,  1845. 

BucHANNAN,  George — "  A  Detection  of  the  Actions  of  Mary,  Queen 
of  Scots,  concerning  tne  Murder  of  her  Husband  and  her  Con- 
spiracy, Adultery,  and  Pretended  Marriage  with  Earl  Both  well, 
and  a  Defence  of  the  true  Lords,  Maintainors  of  the  King's 
Majesty's  Action  and  Authority."    London,  1721. 

Strickland,  Agnes — "  Lives  of  the  Queens  of  Scotland,"  etc. 
Vols.  iii.  iv.  v.  and  vi.    New  York,  1854. 

LiNGARD,  John — "History  of  England."    Yol.  vi.    London,  1854. 

Criminal  Trials — "  Trials  of  Sir  Nicholas  Throckmorton  and 
Thomas  Howard,  Duke  of  Norfolk."    London,  1832. 

McRie,  Thomas — "  Life  of  John  Knox,"  etc.  Philadelphia. 

Voltaire — "Essai  sur  les  Moeurs,  Marie  Stuart."    Paris,  1838. 

Robertson,  William — "  History  of  Scotland,"  etc.  New  York,  1855. 

Chalmers,  George — "  Life  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  drawn  fioa 
the  State  Papers,"  etc.    Philadelphia,  1822. 


4:30    Peincipal  "Works  Consulted 


Tytler,  William — "  An  Inquiry,  Historical  and  Critical,  into  thf 
Evidence  against  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,"  etc.    London,  1790. 

Knox,  John — "  History  of  Reformation."  Glasgow.  J.  BurneS; 
1792. 

Bell,  Henry  Glassford—**  Life  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots."  New 
York,  1840. 

Attoun,  W.  E. — **Bot«well,  a  Poem."    troston,  1857. 
Walters — "  Lift  of  Mary.  Queen  of  Scots.    Family  Library. 

Fliiiadelphia,  1^84. 
Scott,  Sir  Walter — TaJea  cf  a  Grandfather." 
Ajibot  /aoob — History  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Sc^te."  Jotk 


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